


Branches and Constellations

by blakesparkles



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Blind Character, CHICA TO THE RESCUE, Chica For the Best Dog Award, Cookies, Disability, Donuts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Fluff, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, I promise its gonna be alright, Jack is 27, Learning Disabilities, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Smut, This doesnt mean they are younger, Yet to Come - Freeform, pun intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakesparkles/pseuds/blakesparkles
Summary: He looks down at the dog, and then at the man holding a leash and an umbrella. He’s staring slightly over Jack’s petite frame and there’s a brief silence before the green-haired man opens his mouth to speak.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super excited to start this new story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this! ♥

Jack rolls his eyes and sighs when he looks outside the coffee shop he’s in. The rain falls unforgivingly and the green-haired man curses himself for not getting an umbrella before leaving his dorm. Of course his past-self had to shrug and leave it behind, thinking nothing would happen. Now, he turns his attention back at the counter and accepts his drink. At least the warm beverage can keep him warm during such dismal weather. This coffee is heaven in comparison to what they have at university. He checks his watch, wondering if he’ll be at class in time. It’s past 8am.

 

He’s late.

 

The Irishman rubs his temple and decides that he has to go. _It’s just water,_ he tells himself, _fuck it._ Leaving the café and stepping on the wet pavement, Jack pulls his hoodie up. One hand is tucked in his pocket while the other holds his coffee. He keeps his head down, half running, half walking, counting the missing blocks until he arrives at the university. Jack looks at his feet, shivering from the cold and trying to make himself smaller so the rain won’t get him. Half of his coffee is gone by the time he stops at the traffic signal.

 

“C’mon, c’mon…” he mutters under his breath, shifting on his feet and dragging one hand over his face.

 

The city is louder when it rains. People start honking and blinking their headlights to get each other’s attention. Even so, Jack frowns when he hears a barking in the background that slowly gets closer and closer. When he’s sure there’s something running towards his right side, he turns to see a blur of a dog jumping onto him. He yelps, falling to the ground. Jack tries to push the dog away at first, but it just keeps barking and licking his face happily. Jack is on the sidewalk with a dog on top of him, in the middle of the rain, while people walk by giving him weird looks. The scene looks so absurd in Jack’s mind, that he begins to laugh. The rain falls on his face and he tries to calm the animal down, but in vain.

 

The green-haired man is breathless when he hears a voice. It takes a few seconds, but the dog retreats from Jack’s form with a whine, though its tail doesn’t stop wiggling. Jack blinks several times and moves to sit up, groaning when he realizes his outfit is soaked. He focuses on the voice again, the one that keeps saying something. When he looks up, there’s a man with wide eyes holding the dog’s leash.

 

“A-Are you okay? I’m so sorry… I-I stopped by a store because of the rain, but she was having none of it... Before I knew, s-she… I’m sorry, are you alright?” The man says in one breath and Jack notices he has his hand hovering in the air.

 

He takes the man’s aid, gathering himself from the ground and pulling his hoodie up again. It’s not going to help the _not-getting-wet_ situation, but it certainly lets him see better. He looks down at the dog, and then at the man holding a leash and an umbrella. He’s staring slightly over Jack’s petite frame and there’s a brief silence before the green-haired man opens his mouth to speak.

 

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. It’s okay.” Jack brushes it off.

 

The man still looks concerned. “I’m still getting used to her… ”

 

Jack takes a second to answer, analyzing the situation. He _really_ wants to get away from the rain or he is going to start stressing out. “Uh, listen, don’t worry about it. It’s fine. She’s a good puppy. I’ve got to go now…” He trails off, even though he knows he won’t go to his first class anymore. He’s already late enough. Jack figures he’ll just talk to his teacher about it and solve the problem. Now, all he wants is a warm shower.

 

He checks for the green light before walking away from the man, who’s knitting his eyebrows.

 

“Your coffee.”

 

Jack turns, frowning. The dog barks at him, wanting to get closer again. “What about it?”

 

“Chica made you drop your coffee, right?” He looks towards Jack. “I can buy you a coffee as an apology… But if you don’t want to be bothered, maybe you could borrow my umbrella? You don’t seem to be carrying one.”

 

Jack raises one eyebrow at him.

 

“Uh,” he walks back and Chica - he discovers must be the dog’s name - barks once more. “Sure...? Coffee? Anything warm at the moment, actually...” Also, he figures that if this guy wants to commit to his company for the length of time it takes to buy him a cup of coffee, they might as well introduce themselves properly. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

 

The man smiles, his eyes turning into half-moons. “Okay, Jack. I’m Mark.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, as Mark leans the umbrella forward and the city’s rumble is muffled by it. Jack is grateful for that.

 

“Nice to meet you too.”

 

Jack nods, moving so he’s at Mark’s side. He asks where Jack wants to go. The Irishman mumbles the name of the coffee house he had just left, since it’s the closest one, and he doesn’t want to be an asshole. Mark hums, saying Jack can take the lead. When they arrive at the café, he quickly looks down at Chica and he wonders if the place allows animals or not. He is not sure. Before he speaks his concern, Mark fumbles with the glass door and Chica goes inside immediately, pulling her owner.

 

The barista and the cashier don’t seem to mind after seeing her, so Jack hums with curiosity.

 

“Do you mind taking me to a table?” Mark wonders while closing his umbrella.

 

“Not at all.” Jack shrugs.

 

Jack chooses one in the corner that is away from the windows, where it’ll be warmer. Mark touches the table first, then he pulls the chair out to sit down and pets Chica so that she lies  down, finally calm. He tells Jack to order anything he wants, that it’s on him. The green-haired man shakes his head, not wanting to take advantage of the guy. Jack orders two coffees, one for him and one for Mark. And a bagel.

 

“The bagel is for Chica.” Jack says after coming back with their drinks. The brunet snorts softly, but doesn’t stop him when he gives a piece to the golden retriever. Jack chuckles when she nudges him with her nose and he scratches her head. “Good girl.”

 

“She likes you.” Mark’s voice calls Jack’s attention back. He’s staring down at the table, a half-smile on his face. He has a few damp strands of black hair over his eyes. “She just ran after you out there. You must be quite popular, huh?”

 

The Irishman shrugs, unzipping his jacket so the material won’t stick to his skin. He messes with his hair and the coffee is warm in his hands. “Well, it’s not every day that I get knocked out by a cute dog, I gotta admit.”

 

Mark laughs. “Really? I am disappointed to hear that.” He snorts at Mark’s reply, finding himself amused by it. Jack’s smile fades, remembering he still has classes to go to and that he has essays to write. He sighs, rubbing his eye, and Mark seems to catch that. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, I just… This is weird.” He stares at Mark, knitting his eyebrows. “Today is being weird and this rain sucks. And I’ve got to go back to my dorm.”

 

“Dorm? Are you a student?” Mark perks up at that, looking a bit down at Jack’s eye. The Irishman nods and Mark doesn’t reply for a second, tilting his head. “What do you study?”

 

“Sound design.”

 

“Oh, that’s fascinating!” Jack snorts when he hears the brunet’s enthusiasm and sees the shine in his hazel eyes. No one has ever told Jack that what he does is _fascinating._

 

“You’re quirky...” Jack mutters.

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

Jack huffs with a half-smile. He looks down at his empty cup and checks his watch again only to see is a little past 9am. “I really have to go, though.”

 

“What about the rain?”

 

“Uh,” Jack turns around to see that it has become a light drizzle. “I’ll be fine, it’s not raining hard anymore.” Chica whines when Jack gets up. Mark pets her head and looks up. “Thanks. Really. That’s very kind of you. I’ll pay for your coffee and the bagel, though.”

 

Mark shakes his head. “No, it’s not a problem. Hopefully we’ll meet again?”

 

Jack doesn’t answer right away. Mark looks like he wants Jack to stay longer and Jack thinks he wouldn’t mind. But he can’t do that right now. It was an odd way to meet someone. Funny, nonetheless. He picks up his jacket and rubs the back of his neck, not sure what to say. Jack bites his lips.

 

“S-Sure. I’m here every morning. Usually at seven, I was just late today.”

 

Mark smiles and nods. Jack pets Chica again as a goodbye-for-now, he supposes. Then, he extends his hand towards Mark, wanting to be polite. But the brunet doesn’t do anything. He proceeds to stare down at the table and Jack starts to feel anxious, wondering if he fucked something up. A few seconds go by that absolutely feel like forever to Jack, before he clears his throat, committing to his gesture. The brunet’s eyes widen a bit at the sound.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I… I wanted to shake your hand. You didn’t do anything.” Jack cannot read Mark’s expression at all until he bursts out into a laugh that startles Jack. “What? What’s so funny?”

 

“You.” Mark covers his mouth to stop laughing and he clears his throat. “Sorry, I mean… Jack, uh, how do I say this…” He waves a hand over his own eyes. “I’m blind.”

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

They’re quiet for a moment, Jack’s mouth ajar, his eyes going from Mark to Chica, back and forth, connecting the dots. She’s a _guide_ dog. That’s why she’s allowed inside and that’s why Mark was looking at Jack funny.

 

“Oh my god!” Jack holds his face in shame. His cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Shit,” he murmurs to himself, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. I didn’t know.”

 

Mark seems amused. “It’s okay, kid. That’s kinda cute.”

 

“Oh god, shut up,” he groans, ears hot pink.  “I’m leaving! I’m leaving. Goodbye!”

 

“See you tomorrow, Jack.”

 

The green-haired man groans at Mark’s joke. Embarrassment consuming him, he just shakes his head, holding in the urge to throw a joke back. He leaves the café, feeling warm once more, chuckling to himself.

 

***

 

“Earth to Jack!”

 

Jack’s head snaps back at his roommate. “Sorry, what?”

 

Across the room, Robin raises one of his eyebrows. “I was talking about Snape and you were being rude and ignoring me.”

 

Jack snorts and looks back at his laptop. He’s been staring at it until the words of his essay become a blur. He sighs, scratching the back of his head. Robin is on Jack’s bed across from him, reading a Harry Potter book because _he_ already did his essay. Jack is at his writing desk. He’s been thinking about what happened this morning and about Mark. How dumb was he for not noticing that the guy was blind?! He’ll probably be at his favorite café from now on, and Jack’s half torn between avoiding the guy or just going along with it. _It’d be mean to avoid him, though,_ Jack thinks, while biting his nails.

 

It wouldn’t hurt to just talk to him, right? Right. Yeah. Small talk.

 

He can do small talk, right?

 

“Dude, stop. I can _feel_ you thinking and it’s stressing _me_ out,” Robin mutters.

 

Jack hums, not quite listening to him and Robin huffs. He concentrates on finishing the essay and getting shit done instead. His shoulders relax by the end of it all and he buys pizza for dinner, winning Robin back. They discuss games and movies throughout bites of food and Jack really appreciates all of this. Robin has his own room, but they spend most of their time together in Jack’s room just because.

 

The Irishman goes to bed after that, doing his best to avoid thoughts of a certain dog and a certain person. However, before falling into a deep sleep, he finds himself looking forward to see them again.

 

***

 

The bell above him rings when he enters the café the next morning. Today’s still cloudy, but there is no rain. His eyes immediately find Mark and Chica at the same table from yesterday and Jack lets out a light laugh. If it wasn’t for Mark’s different outfit, it really would look like they never left the place. Mark’s wearing a floral shirt that looks oddly nice on him. The colors are bright and warm. He approaches them, Chica raising her head and opening her mouth to breathe. Her whole body shows excitement and Jack smiles at her.

 

Mark seems to notice her change of behavior and he looks… _through_ Jack. He can’t quite explain it, but that’s how it feels. He watches Mark’s eyes move, searching for what caused Chica’s sudden shift in mood, and Jack almost waves when he gets closer. Almost. _Damn it._

 

“Hi,” he says instead.

 

“Jack!” Mark smiles immediately and Jack gets a bit self-conscious over his voice. Mark recognized it right away. He clears his throat and hopes it doesn’t crack mid-sentence today. “Hi, how are you doing?”

 

Jack shrugs and then mentally slaps himself in the face, realizing Mark won’t see his non-verbal answers. “I’m fine. Did you order something already? Do you want anything?”

 

“A spiced Vienna, please? Some donuts too!”

 

“Geez, Mark. I wasn’t talking to _you._ I was talking to Chica.”

 

The brunet sends an astonished look his way before chuckling. “And what did she say?”

 

“Bagel, obviously.” Jack laughs and says he’ll be right back with their food.

 

He watches Mark pet Chica and, somehow, it brings a smile to his face. He also notices that today she is wearing the guide dog harness that has emergency kits and… other stuff that Jack doesn’t know about, really. But now it’s much safer for Mark to have her around, since people will understand right away. Jack thinks things would’ve been less embarrassing if she was wearing it yesterday, but what can he do? There’s something quite charming in watching them. He comes back with their food and Mark hums, smelling the delicious donuts and biting into one.

 

A few donuts later, Mark begins to talk to him.

 

“So,” he speaks between bites of powdered sugar, “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

“Twenty-seven.” Jack’s answer makes Mark frown, so he elaborates. “I did graduate in my early years, but it was for hotel management. I decided to go back and do something I’m really passionate about.” Jack makes sure everything he says is clear and he cringes at himself for holding his accent a bit. It feels like his teenage years all over again.

 

Mark hums. “I’m happy to hear you’re doing something you like now. I am quite fond of sounds myself.”

 

Jack snorts. “Do you always make fun about being blind?”

 

“Better me than others, right?” he grins quickly.

 

They eat some more, enjoying the background noise and their drinks.

 

“What about you?” Jack asks, giving just a piece of bagel to Chica. He knows this kind of food is not exactly appropriate for dogs, so he makes a mental note to bring some kind of dog treat next time instead _. Next time? Really, Jack?_

 

Mark gives him a funny look, shrugging. “Eh, thirty-one. Getting old. I’m a dropout.”

 

Jack keeps caressing Chica’s fur, biting on his lips. He wants to ask what he does. Does he have a job? If he does, is it a safe environment? Does he live close to it? Is it rude of him to think Mark needs a safe environment in the first place…? He _did_ say he only got a dog recently, so what if it wasn’t and he had to get one? The Irishman overthinks, staring down at Chica instead.

 

“Jack.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“You can ask, you know.”

 

Jack jiggles his leg and he bites into a donut to give him time. Mark seems to have an always-present smile and Jack can’t help but stare. “I just… I’m curious about you, but I don’t want to be rude? I guess?” the Irishman says.

 

“Do you have intentions to be rude?”

 

“No, of course not.”

 

“Then it’s okay, Jack. I won’t be offended.”

 

Chewing on his bottom lip, the green-haired man opens his mouth to ask if he lives around the area. Mark nods and says he does have an apartment a couple of blocks away from this café that he recently bought when he moved to the city. He’s not working at the moment. That’s all he says. Jack talks about his university for a while then, mentioning his roommate Robin and what they do. Which, frankly, it isn’t that much. They are both guys that like to stay inside and just watch movies, so Jack’s life is not exactly that thrilling.

 

Jack and Mark chat about movie genres after that and the green-haired man is surprised and, honestly happy, that Mark knows so much of it. It works for a really good talk and he finds himself laughing every now and then. His accent gets loose again, relaxing and not overthinking for once. When their cups are empty and the donuts are gone, Jack tells the tanned man to guess how he thinks Jack looks. It doesn’t come across as rude and Jack is relieved by that.

 

Mark squints his eyes, touching his own beard in wonder. “Mm, I know you’re not American. That’s a start.”

 

Jack’s face heats up a bit and he rubs the back of his neck. “You got that right… Where am I from, though?”

 

“England?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Scotland?”

 

Jack makes an error beeping sound. “Wrong! I’m from Ireland. You got close, though.”

 

“Irish, huh?” Mark chuckles. “I knew you were hiding that from me.”

 

He looks at the brunet, resting his cheek on one hand and grinning when Mark tilts his head, hearing the sound. He looks at the coffee shop clock and sighs. “I have to go now.”

 

“Oh,” the brunet mutters. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

 

Jack starts wondering if they will meet every morning. Apparently, that’s what Mark wants and Jack is not opposed to the idea anymore. “Yeah,” he gets up and puts his hands in his pockets. “Until then, you can start thinking about what my hair looks like. How ‘bout that?”

 

“Please, tell me you don’t have a bowl cut.”

 

“I don’t know, man! Anything is possible!” Jack laughs and Mark snorts.

 

“It’s a deal, then.”

  
“Yeah,” he smiles. “Deal.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZaqviDdFYU


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist so far: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZaqviDdFYU&index=1&list=PL6XgzmiBk09HayGSjPFozyJB6IDYm46yK

Mark swears during his fifth time trying to guess Jack’s look and the Irishman laughs, his frame leaning forward and one leg raising up. He puts his hand over his stomach, still chuckling when Mark runs out of ideas. Jack proceeds to say he has a sort of undercut and the top of his hair is dyed. The tan man ask which color it is and that makes Jack stop for a second, wondering if Mark would know. He did talk about movies he had watched from at least ten years ago, so that means Mark wasn’t always blind, right?

 

“Uh,” Jack clears his throat. “It’s green. I dyed it bright green, though it’s… fading by now.” Mark has a funny look that Jack can’t point it out what it means. Jack can’t stop staring at him, so he continues to talk. “I lost a fight to a dwarf once, man. I have a scar that takes up half of my face due to a knife fight. He was a bastard, let me tell ya.”

 

Mark giggles and Jack’s silly smile grows, happy that Mark is laughing at his bullshit. When it gets quiet again, they enjoy their coffee and donuts once more. The tan man pushes his elbows forward, getting closer to Jack. He does that cute move again, where he tilts his head to catch the sounds.

 

“You’re staring,” he whispers with a knowing smirk.

 

Jack blinks, coming back to reality. “No, I’m not.”

 

“Yes, you are.” Mark chuckles. “Is there something on my face?”

 

The green-haired man purses his lips, holding in an answer that would be incredibly embarrassing because he immediately thought _No, you’re just pretty_. Which sends a small wave of panic through Jack, since Mark is still a stranger to him. He shakes his head first, then he licks his lips to open his mouth.

 

“Yeah, kinda wanted to warn you about that last donut with sprinkles, man… Told you it wouldn’t work.” Jack tries to say something funny and Mark huffs.

 

Jack looks at the clock and sighs when it’s time to say goodbye.

 

***

 

For a couple of weeks after that, they meet every morning, chatting for about an hour before Jack’s classes. Some days Mark doesn’t talk too much. Sometimes he seems really tired and he doesn’t try to look around as much. Jack does his best to pick up on his mannerisms and know how he should act towards Mark. Like how Mark’s shoulders drop down, his eyes half-closed directed to the floor. Today it’s happening again for the third time in a row and Jack is starting to wonder if he should ask about it. Jack assumes he must be going through something too personal, that he doesn’t think is worth telling Jack about.

 

They are not strangers anymore, but Jack wouldn’t exactly call them friends either. Somehow it doesn’t seem right.

 

Mark doesn’t touch the rest of the donuts they ordered and they’ve been sitting in silence for a while now. Jack narrows his eyes at him, wondering what’s on his mind. The Irishman never met someone blind before, so he can’t help but find everything about Mark fascinating. Jack has been seeing the world a little different in these past few weeks, paying more attention to details. And with that thought, Jack sighs.

 

“Mark…” He doesn’t perk up when Jack calls him, so he tries again. “Mark, what’s going on?”

 

“What do you mean?” the brunet looks up for the first time that day and Jack’s heart clenches. He almost locks their eyes, before gazing down again.

 

Jack purses his lips, learning Mark can be stubborn. “You’ve been spacing out… I’m worried,” he says. Jack points at Chica, even though the tan man won’t see it. “It’s the third time you’ve forgotten to put on Chica’s vest, Mark.”

 

“Who said I forgot?” he hears Mark mutter and Jack frowns.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing is going on, Jack,” the brunet shakes his head, crossing his arms. “I’m just tired, s’all. Today is too loud.”

 

“Loud?” Jack frowns even more, then he looks around the café. “You mean, here? Too many people? Is it bothering you?” Mark nods and Chica tries to get his attention by nudging on Mark’s thigh. Jack sighs when he makes no move. He messes with his hair out of frustration. “C’mon, let’s get out of here…”

 

“What?” Mark’s voice raises a little, actually surprised. “And go where?”

 

“Anywhere but here.”

 

Jack moves to get up and Mark looks towards him, the sound of the chair scraping on the floor calling his attention. He slowly stands up too, his grip on Chica’s leash tightens. Noticing his tension, Jack doesn’t think twice when he approaches Mark to touch his arm. The brunet lets out a soft gasp in surprise and Jack murmurs an apology, saying he should’ve warned him. He nudges Mark so they can leave the café and, once the fresh air hits their faces, they both sigh in relief. Mark still has a strong grip on Chica’s leash, but he doesn’t look as small as before, sitting in the corner of that room.

 

 _Fuck,_ Jack thinks. _Now what?_ They always talked inside the coffee shop. They never went anywhere else. He wonders if Mark can tell he’s shifting on his feet, anxiety getting to him.

 

“Jack.”

 

“Yes?” he grins towards Mark.

 

“I think I should go.”

 

His smile falls immediately. “W-What, why?”

 

The brunet opens his mouth to say something, but closes it. He knits his eyebrows. “I think I just need to rest. We can talk tomorrow, alright?” Mark begins to turn around to leave, but Jack holds his wrist to stop him and Chica seems really confused as where to go. “Jack...”

 

“Mark, I don’t know you well enough. I really don’t. But I can see you’re struggling through something and I want...“ Jack trails off, frowning at himself. _I want you to trust me and let me take care of you? I want to help you but it’s not out of pity? I want to know you?_ How the fuck is he going to say that without fucking something up?

 

“What do you want?”

 

Jack shakes his head, not being able to say anything out loud. Mark must have heard his clothes shifting with Jack’s movement, because he groans out of annoyance. Jack lets out a shaky breath. “I-I don’t know… I can’t… ”

 

Mark removes Jack’s hand from his wrist gently, but it still manages to hurt Jack inside. “I’m sorry for today, but I’ll be fine. I promise.” Mark whispers and Jack can’t look at his eyes right now. He’s staring at the pavement, watching their feet like they’re a mirror version of one another. They’re closer than Jack thought. He can see Chica waiting for something to happen with her doe eyes. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Okay,” is all Jack manages to say and he only looks up when Mark turns his back on him.

 

He’s walking slower than before, being careful to not bump into people or trip over anything. Chica seems to know the way well enough, so Jack can at least feels calm about that. He chews the inside of his cheek. He hates the feeling of being shut down, even though Jack knows he should respect Mark’s space in the first place. And it’s not like Jack has been spilling his own life to Mark either. They’ve only know each other for, what, a couple of weeks now? Still.

 

Irony can be so painful.

 

***

 

Mark is outside the café when Jack gets there. He’s leaning against the concrete wall, Chica on his heel wearing the vest. He’s also holding a cane. The Irishman walks up to them, mind already buzzing with questions. He slept bad last night, worrying over the man and also his exams. Jack’s a bit thankful Mark won’t see the dark circles under his eyes, really.

 

“Hey…” Jack greets him. He pets Chica heavily, burying his fingers in her soft fur. “Why aren’t you inside?”

 

“Morning!” Mark is smiling again and the emotions are clear in his voice. “I thought we could walk to a park, actually. I was counting on you to tell me if there’s one nearby.”

 

Jack places his hands into his grey sweater pocket, chewing on his bottom lip. “Okay… but it’s four blocks away. Is that alright?”

 

Mark nods.

 

“I really want coffee, though. Give me a second, I’ll grab something for us to drink on the way.”

 

Jack rubs his eye while waiting in line. He sighs, feeling the weight of his backpack on his shoulders when he comes back outside. Mark is calm and at ease today. Jack asks permission to touch Mark’s elbow and guide him to the park and the latter agrees. The Irishman can’t help but chuckle, saying that he is being greedy by having a cane, a dog _and_ a person. It makes Mark giggle.

 

They stop by a pet store for a moment, so Jack can buy some dog treats for Chica. Mark insists there is no need, but she gets so excited that he ends up agreeing to it. Arriving at the park, Jack is thankful that there aren’t too many people at this hour. He thinks it’ll be better to stay in more peaceful places with Mark, so it won’t trigger any anxiety on bad days. Mark’s cane goes left and right, tapping out the path in front of him. He hums when the sound of his cane striking pavement turns into the thunk of grass, and Chica wiggles her tail happily.

 

Jack takes them to a nearby tree, where the leaves will provide a comfortable shade. Jack takes Mark’s cane to rest against the tree and places the box of donuts down. The Irishman watches Mark remove his shoes, because he wants to feel the grass under his feet. Jack watches it all, loving every expression that comes across Mark’s face. They rest their backs against the tree. The brunet lets Chica walk around for a bit, but she doesn’t go too far. She’s a really good puppy, indeed.

 

Jack is almost falling asleep when he hears Mark.

 

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

 

The green-haired man holds in a yawn. “It’s okay… I’m sorry too.”  Jack scratches the back of his neck. “Can you tell me how are you feeling today? Honestly?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he nods. “Sometimes things gets tough.”

 

Jack hums in sympathy and Mark moves so he’s lying down completely on the grass, resting one hand over his stomach and using Jack’s backpack as a pillow. He really seems relaxed now and Jack is relieved by that. When Mark closes his eyes, Jack continues to look down at him. That’s all he does, but it never gets boring to do so. Mark’s chest moves up and down slowly with his breathing. The leaves sing when the wind blows softly on their branches.

 

The green-haired man quietly removes his hand from his pocket and he hesitates for a second, before softly touching Mark’s hair. The latter seems to swallow, but accepts the contact and Jack’s stomach does something funny inside. His hair is soft and fine. Jack caresses him for what feels like forever. Both of them tired and just paying attention to the sounds. Mark looks beautiful under the tree, the sun casting light perfectly through the branches.

 

Yeah.

 

It was a good change of pace.

 

***

 

He’s back at his dorm. His classes are over for now, so he’s spending time with Robin in the living room. The Swedish man is setting up a movie for them to watch. Jack can see Chica’s dog treats resting on the kitchen countertop out of the corner of his eye. He stares down at his left hand, the one that caressed Mark’s hair. They don’t initiate contact often. That was the first time Jack actually got _that_ near to him. The green-haired man blames it on his sleep-deprived state and he hopes that Mark didn’t take it in the wrong way.

 

Robin comes back to the couch, pressing play and Jack brushes off those thoughts for later. He makes an approving sound when he sees it’s the movie Arrival. They’ve seen it already and had amazing discussions regarding the movie, but Robin wants to see it for the third time and pick up on more hints. Jack agrees. It is pretty good and it has great sound editing. He focuses his mind on the movie and every now and then, he’ll comment with Robin about certain details.

 

“Is everything okay?” Robin asks once the movie is over.

 

“Yeah.” Robin continues to stare, not buying his bullshit.

 

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Robin smiles.

 

Jack scoffs. “Not in the way _you_ think I am.”

 

“But you are,” he playfully says. “You like him, don’t you?”

 

“I don’t _hate_ him.”

 

Robin grins and it takes all Jack’s willpower  to not roll his eyes.

 

***

 

It’s been another week of them meeting each other.

 

Jack shared more about his personal life, in hopes to hear Mark talking about his back. It doesn’t work. Jack keeps talking, of course. But he’s a little bummed out that Mark is resisting opening up to him so much. The Irishman talks about his life in Ireland and how difficult it was to get opportunities. He misses the quietness of his town, away from the urban noises, but it is for the best.

 

The only thing remotely close Jack got to Mark’s past, was when the brunet said he used to play in the woods. As a kid, he’d go on adventures and pretend he was king of the animals. Jack smiled when he heard it, picturing Mark as a kid playing by himself.

 

Chica is lying on Jack’s feet under the table, keeping him warm. Mark is alright, from what Jack can tell. A little off, but the smile is there. He looks at the man’s hair, remembering how it felt against his skin. It has grown a bit since they met and Jack wonders if Mark will get a haircut soon. He watches Mark from under his eyelashes.

 

“You’re staring again.”

 

Jack is unfazed by Mark’s comment, mostly because he watches the brunet’s lips move. He shrugs, resting his cheek on one hand.

 

“I do that,” he replies.

 

Mark hums. “Well… since I have your attention,” he huffs and then knits his eyebrows, thinking of the words. “I was thinking… do you want to hang out with me?”

 

“Aren’t we hanging out right now?” Jack picks up his cup of coffee to take a sip.

 

Mark stifles a laugh. “Besides this place, you idiot. Like… go to the park more, the beach, my apartment...”

 

Jack chokes on his coffee, so he’s coughing like a madman while Mark’s eyes widen in alarm. It takes a few seconds, but Jack manages to breathe and calm down. “Sorry, uh,” he blinks several times, nodding with wide blue eyes. “Yes?” _Heck yeah?!_

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Mark smiles softly and Jack can see dimples in his cheeks. He asks if Jack has anything for today and the latter says no. After classes, he was just going to call it a day and enjoy the weekend. So Mark proposes that today, Jack could walk with him to his apartment. That way, Jack will know where he lives and he can come back in the afternoon. Jack jiggles his leg, thinking that Mark will be showing him part of his life. This is progress, right? Right.

 

They walk away from the coffee shop, side by side, Chica a little ahead, pulling on the leash. Jack adds the apartment’s name and street in his cellphone once they get there. Mark was right, it’s not that far from the café.

 

“I live on the fourth floor, 4B. You can just press the buzzer for the apartment and then talk through the intercom, so I can let you in. Is around 4pm okay for you?”

 

“Y-Yeah, it’s fine.” Jack grimaces when his voice cracks. If Mark heard it, he doesn’t say anything.

 

He just smiles and says goodbye for now.

 

***

 

Jack bites his nails, staring at himself in the mirror for the third time in a row. He’s wearing a red long-sleeved shirt with black jeans. Nothing will make his tired face better. And it’s not like Mark will _see_ him. He knows it’s silly, but he can’t help but feel anxious about this. He doesn’t even know what they will do. Probably nothing fancy, just some good old chilling time. It’s Mark’s home that is making him feel anxious.

 

He’s going to his apartment.

 

It’ll be just the two of them. Well, Chica will be there too, of course.

 

“Oh my god, you look fine! Get on with it!” Robin groans from downstairs, noticing Jack is taking too long.

 

He takes a deep breath, trying to fix his messy hair, before leaving the room. Robin whistles and Jack’s ears burns. “Shut up.”

 

“Are you using cologne?” Robin raises an eyebrow.

 

“No. Maybe. A bit. Why? I just wanted to. It’s not a date, Robin.”

 

“Sure. Do you want it to be a date, though?” Jack scoffs, shrugging and making a comical move that screams _I-dont-know._ “Right-o! Have fun on your not-date-but-totally-date-thing today, sweetie. I won’t be waiting up.”

 

“It’s _not_ a date!” he yells while picking up his jacket.

 

***

 

Jacks sighs, shaking his hands while staring at the building in front of him. His cellphone buzzes with a message and he unlocks it to take a look, only to roll his eyes.

 

**From Robin, 4:02pm:**

_don’t forget to use condoms!!! ;3c_

 

**To Robin, 4:02pm:**

_u r a fuckin condom_

 

**From Robin, 4:03pm:**

_noooo, don’t use meeee :O_

 

Jack chuckles, thanking Robin for making him laugh. He presses the intercom and waits for Mark to pick up. Three beeps later, Mark’s voice comes out and the glass door buzzes soon after. Jack gets inside and walks into the elevator, pressing the number four. He fidgets with the hem of his jacket, biting on his lips. When the metal doors open, he steps into the hallway and finds out there’s only two apartments per floor. Jack stares at the 4B door, swallowing before knocking on it.

 

A minute goes by when Mark opens the door and Jack holds his breath. There’s nothing significantly different, but Jack’s blue eyes wander all over the brunet either way. Mark’s half-moon eyes seek for Jack and they both smile.

 

“Hi,” Jack says while putting a few strands of green hair behind his ear that were in the way.

 

“Hi.” Mark almost looks at him and Jack’s heart skips a beat. “Wanna come in?”

  
“Yeah.” Jack lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will probably be on Monday :)


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing that crosses Jack’s mind when he looks around the apartment is space. Everything is placed within a certain distance that Jack can only assume is for a better walking system. The ceiling is really high and Mark has a whole wall made of glass that has a nice view of the city. He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

 

Mark’s hand traces his wall when he walks and Chica happily jumps on Jack, standing on two legs so Jack can pet her. The brunet smiles, but snaps his fingers and commands her to lie down. The wooden floor creaks when they walk to the living room, passing through the open kitchen. There is a wall made of bricks that has a fireplace attached to it, along with a tv. The couch and the armchairs in front of it are grey and black.

 

“Make yourself comfortable. Gimme a second, I’ll check if the cookies are ready.”

 

“You made cookies?!” Jack holds his face. “Dude!”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“I fucking love cookies.”

 

Mark laughs. “Good. I’ll be right back.”

 

Jack is still holding his cheeks when Mark leaves, feeling warm inside. He made cookies. _That’s fucking adorable_ , he thinks. Jack can still see Mark in the kitchen. He takes a toothpick and opens the oven. The Irishman groans when the sweet smell hits him. Mark presses the toothpick into one of them and hums happily. When he starts to pick up some sort of plate for them, Jack decides to look around.

 

There are some black wooden shelves between the glass wall section, filled with books and knick knacks. Jack scans some of the books, taking one and opening it, only to find out he can’t read them. They are all in Braille and Jack’s fingers trace the pages, wondering what it must feel like to be Mark. He places the book back where it was, wondering some more. The green-haired man only finds one portrait.

 

The portrait is facing down.

 

Jack purses his lips, wondering if Mark already had it that like that for a long time or if he changed it on purpose because Jack was coming over. Either way, he gets the message. Mark is coming back when he turns around and the brunet stops by the couch. Touching the furniture, he places the cookies on the coffee table and seems to be trying to locate Jack. The latter walks towards him.

 

“They smell so good!” Jack exclaims and Mark smiles.

 

“Take a bite.”

 

He picks one up and bites into it, moaning when the taste invades his mouth. “Oh my god, this is _so_ fucking good.”

 

“I’m glad you like it.”

 

“Dude, I’m a cookie-expert. This is crunchy and soft at the same time, it’s fucking perfect.” Mark laughs at Jack’s answer.

 

“Why don’t you sit down? I was thinking we could watch Daredevil. Have you seen it? I wanted to start season two.”

 

Jack knits his eyebrows. “Are you going to do what I think you’re going to do?”

 

“Is turning on the narration mode for blind people the thing you think I am thinking?”

 

“Yes. Yes it is.” Jack chuckles. “I did see it but not like this, though. I think it’ll be cool.”

 

“Good.”

 

They listen to the show while eating cookies and Chica appears after a couple of minutes, lying down next to Jack’s feet. At first, Jack watches the television. But then he sees Mark with his eyes closed, resting his back against the couch comfortably. Jack sees Mark’s soft reactions after every scene being described and it’s fascinating. The corner of Jack’s lips turn into a fond smile and he closes his own eyes, hugging his legs to get more comfortable and listen to the show just like Mark.

 

Five episodes later, Jack is spread on the couch lazily and almost asleep with his head resting on Mark’s shoulder. The brunet nudges him and Jack rubs his eyes, sitting straight again.

 

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Am I that bad of company?” Mark laughs.

 

“No, no!” Jack says. “Sorry ‘bout that. It… it was comfy.”

 

Mark grins softly towards Jack and the latter swears he has stars hidden in those hazel eyes. He smiles with his whole face and it radiates happiness. Jack looks at him, not having enough of it.

 

“You smell nice.”

 

“What?” Jack is thrown back by Mark’s words.

 

“Not that you don’t smell good on a daily basis…  I just noticed you tried something different.”

 

“Oh,” the Irishman blushes. “Y-Yeah… I… Thank you…” There’s a brief pause. He watches Mark’s hand open and close again and Jack thinks he’s debating on whether to say something else. “What are you thinking?”

 

Mark swallows. “Can I see you?”

 

Jack knits his eyebrows at Mark’s odd request. “What do you mean? How?”

 

The tan man raises one hand and Jack immediately understands what he means. “Oh.” _He wants to touch my face_. “Oh.”

 

“Is it okay?” Mark hesitates, retreating his hand. Jack catches it and brings his hand to his face, nodding.

 

They turn to face each other better and Jack takes a deep breath, trying to keep himself together. His heart is beating like a drum and he hopes Mark can’t hear it. The brunet holds Jack’s face with both hands now, making shy movements at first. Jack becomes self-conscious about everything. Mark’s fingertips trace his skin, feeling his stubble, his rounded cheeks and nose. Mark is gentle in every move, gaining more confidence as he goes.

 

Jack closes his eyes when he touches his temples and eyelids. The brunet caresses Jack’s cheek for a while, before moving to his ears and hair. Jack feels like he’s high on drugs, overwhelmed by Mark’s tender touch. When Mark touches his neck, Jack unconsciously leans forward and shows him more skin. The tan man hums, letting their foreheads rest against each other. Jack sighs with the contact.

 

“You’re beautiful,” comes Mark’s hoarse voice in a low whisper.

 

Jack blinks a couple of times, seeing that Mark still has his eyes closed. If Jack moves just a little more, their noses will touch. The closeness sets a shiver down his spine. He licks his lips, trying to think.

 

“So are you…” he mumbles, feeling the tips of his ears burn.

 

Mark smiles and retreats his hands from Jack’s face, letting the space between them grow. “Thank you for letting me do that. Some people feel weirded out.”

 

“It’s f-fine, really.” Jack clears his throat. “I don’t mind.”

 

The green-haired man clenches his own hands, missing Mark’s touch already. _This is bad_ , he thinks. _This is really bad_. He’s going to fall for him. He’s already falling, damnit. Jack bites on his bottom lip, holding back the urge to jiggle his leg. Mark asks if they can meet again tomorrow. It’ll be a Saturday, so Jack agrees to come here at the same time. Jack’s legs feel like jello when he gets up from the couch and Mark has to actually hold him for a second, asking if he’s okay. Jack flushes.

 

Mark takes him to the door and he holds Jack’s wrist for a moment.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Jack moves his arm up just enough to wrap his own hand with Mark’s, squinting it softly. “For what?”

 

“Just… thank you.” Mark gives him a smile. “Until tomorrow, Jack.”

 

Jack nods, still feeling a little high. “Bye, Mark.”

 

Their hands fall and Mark opens the door. Jack wants to kiss Mark’s cheek, but he keeps the urge to himself. Instead, he leaves the building in a half-state of mind and he doesn’t remember how he arrived at his university. Jack thanks his brain for turning on auto-pilot and carrying him home. He doesn’t know where Robin is, but the moment he’s inside their house, Jack yells:

 

“It was a fucking _date_!”

 

The last thing he hears is Robin’s laughter coming from the kitchen.

 

***

 

The next day, the Irishman decides to take some of his equipment because of an idea he had the night before. He brings his best headphones along with his laptop, knowing his faithful software will help him. Jack’s even more grateful that he brought his stuff when he sees Mark.

 

The brunet looks like he didn’t sleep at all.

 

“Are you alright?” Jack asks, while getting inside his apartment.

 

Mark brushes it off, saying he’ll be okay. Jack doesn’t press the matter. They sit on the couch again and Jack begins to explain an old project he participated in regarding a short film. He was responsible for the nature sounds. Jack tells Mark how he likes to go directly to the source to record something. In this case, he literally went to parks and drove to quiet places to find a bunch of nature sounds. As a result, he had a really good mix with the equalizer set-up.

 

They both liked to play in the woods as kids, so he thought it’d be a nice idea to share his audio file and pretend they are there. Now that he’s said that out loud, it sounds silly. But Mark looks legitimately curious and excited about it. Jack turns on his computer and searches for the file, opening his software to manipulate the sounds. The green-haired man connects both pairs of headphones to his computer with a splitter and gives one pair to Mark.

 

When he’s sure they are comfortable and ready, sitting side by side, Jack warns Mark he’s going to press [ play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8myYyMg1fFE&t). He watches the brunet’s eyes widen, the corner of his lips turning into a smile. The first sounds are of crickets and birds, then thunder in the background. He plays with the section so the rain is barely there, wanting Mark to hear the animals first and the sound of leaves rustling. After a while, the rain becomes more present and Mark laughs when there’s thunder again.

 

“This is amazing.” He closes his eyes. “Can’t believe you risked your life for this.”

 

“It’s fun.” Jack grins. “I did have to camp for a while to get the perfect rain, though. That was a bit boring...”

 

Mark hums, pleased with the sounds and Jack hopes he’s imagining the place. They listen for a while, both of them enjoying this small peace. Mark’s knee brushes against Jack’s every now and then. The Irishman can tell the brunet is beginning to fall asleep, his face tilting to Jack’s side to rest on the couch. He grins, letting the man rest.

 

Jack busies himself with small projects he had left for the weekend, fixing some things here and there, typing some quick essays or just browsing on the internet. Chica comes to sit by his feet, a thing that is becoming a habit. Everything is oddly domestic and it’s after a couple of hours that Mark’s voice calls Jack’s attention again.

 

“Thomas…?” he whispers.

 

Jack turns to face Mark. His eyes are half-open and he’s frowning, like he just woke up from a dream. Jack feels a thin line of anxiety falling into his stomach, not sure if he should’ve heard that. “Who’s Thomas…?” Mark frowns even more, hazel eyes not focusing anywhere. He seems lost, far away. Jack feels scared for a moment and he doesn’t know what to do. He swallows, pausing the music. “Mark?”

 

The brunet shakes his head, removing the headphones and dragging a hand over his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep…”

 

Jack wants to scream, but keeps himself together. “Don’t worry, dude. Want to watch more of Daredevil?” he asks in the hope that Mark won’t kick him out yet.

 

Mark nods slowly, getting up and asking if Jack wants a beer. It rubs Jack in the wrong way when he hears that, even though he agrees to it. When Mark comes back and begins to set the show up on the tv, the Irishman shuts off his computer and places everything back to his bag. He holds the beer in his hand and watches Mark drink his.

 

“Mark…” Jack says. “Didn’t you tell me once you’re kinda allergic to alcohol?”

 

“Yeah… A beer won’t kill me, Jack.” Mark laughs.

 

Jack wants to say something back. But it’s not like he is Mark’s mother. He can only hope that Mark will act like a real adult when he’s not here and not do anything stupid. The green-haired man takes a sip of the beer and stares at the television, not quite paying attention to it.

 

***

 

On Monday, Mark doesn’t show up.

 

Jack pretends he’s not bummed out about it and he proceeds on with his day, going to classes and doing what he’s supposed to do. Things are going alright at university and Jack really puts his heart in what he loves, so there’s nothing really major to worry about.

 

Mark is not there on the next day either.

 

Jack begins to bite his nails more often during the day and at this rate, he’ll lose all his hair. Even Robin hides the jar filled with candies somewhere in their house to keep Jack away from sugar. Jack groans, upset that he can’t exactly text Mark to ask if he’s okay and just needs some space. What if something happened? Something really _bad_ ? There’s no way Jack would know because Mark is literally someone he just meets in a café. He doesn’t even know Mark’s last name, let alone his phone number. _Shit_ , Jack curses to himself.

 

Wednesday comes and Jack purses his lips, staring at the empty table in the corner that belongs to them now. He sighs, messing with his hair. It scares Jack that Mark can easily leave his life just like that, without a single word. He doesn’t want that. At all.

 

With that in mind, he leaves the queue and walks a few blocks until he sees Mark’s building. He’s nervous when he presses the intercom to the fourth floor and hates every single pause between the beeps. Jack gets even more worried when Mark doesn’t pick up. He tries it again and again. No answer. Jack kicks the air, spinning slowly in a circle while grabbing his own hair.

 

He tries calling to the apartment next to Mark’s, 4A. Jack hopes they can answer and help him out. It takes a while and Jack almost ends the call when a female voice comes out.

 

_“Hello?”_

 

“Yes! Hello, hi!” Jack breathes exasperatedly, waving his arms. “My name is Jack, my friend lives next to your house and he’s not answering me. Can you please let me in?”

 

 _“Fischbach? You mean Mark Fischbach?”_ she exclaims.

 

Jack blinks several times at the intercom. “Yes?”

 

 _“That boy is up to something! I’ve tried to call him several times because of the noise he’s making, but did he answer? No! No, he didn’t!”_ she says, clearly annoyed. Jack frowns.

 

“C-Can you please unlock the front door, then? I’m going there. I’m in a hurry…”

 

She sighs. _“Fine. But this better be over soon!”_

 

Jack thanks her when the door buzzes and he quickly enters the building, pressing the number four in the elevator several times like it’d make any difference. He half walks, half runs in the hallway, chewing the inside of his cheek. He’s about to knock on Mark’s door when he hears a shattering sound from the other side and he tries to calm down his poor heart. After knocking, the sound stops and there’s a pregnant pause.

 

“I said _go away_ _!”_ Mark’s voice comes out sharp and loud and Jack flinches.

 

“It’s me, Jack...”

 

Silence once more.

 

He hears footsteps approaching and sees a dim shadow under the door that can only belong to Mark. Jack lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the brunet speaks again, this time softer.

 

“What are you doing here? No, don’t answer that… Just…” Mark speaks behind the door. “Go home, Jack.”

 

The Irishman feels a pain in his chest and he shakes his head. “Open the door, Mark.” Another minute of silence. “Open the goddamn door!” Jack yells and kicks the bottom of the frame, losing his patience.

 

He hears shuffling and, soon after, a click that tells him he’s unlocked it. Mark opens the door a small gap, just enough to see his face peeking out. Jack grimaces at the brunet’s state. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a mess.

 

“Jack…” Mark’s voice is hoarse, like he’s been screaming for a long time. “Please, go home….”

 

“I can’t do that,” Jack whispers and he pushes the door. Mark sighs, letting him in.

 

The green-haired man gasps at the sight, his blue eyes wandering everywhere around the house. It looks like a hurricane was inside the apartment. Everything looks like a mess. A shelf is on the floor, broken, along with books spread across the hardwood. He walks towards the kitchen, the crunching sound of broken glass under his feet too loud in his ears. There are broken plates and decorative items around the whole place. Jack whimpers when he sees a trace of blood that goes straight to where Mark is, hunched down in a corner with his arms covering his face.

 

Jack walks back to him, noticing that the blood is coming from cuts on the soles of his bare feet. It’s nothing deep, but he’ll have to take care of that soon. Jack swallows the lump in his throat and touches Mark’s shoulders, hating the way he flinches.

 

“Mark…” Jack speaks softly. “I need you to sit on the couch. Can you do that for me?”

 

Mark lowers his arms, revealing his red eyes, and he doesn’t try to look at Jack. He nods and the Irishman nudges him to get up, walking slowly with him until Mark is on the couch. Jack kneels down in front of Mark and holds his face, caressing his cheeks.

 

“Where is Chica?”

 

“Bedroom…” is all Mark’s says, so Jack goes there to check if she’s alright. The room is organized and she barks when Jack shows up, whining and worrying over her stupid owner. He leaves her there for now. He’ll have to clean up the glass before letting her out, so Jack commands her to lie down.

 

Jack walks to the bathroom and looks for an emergency kit. He has so many things going on in his mind, but he has to focus on taking care of Mark’s cuts first. Step by step. He can do this. He can do this, right? Jack catches a glance of himself in the mirror and he forgets how to breathe, choking on his own saliva while seeing how panicked he looks. His legs give out, making him fall on the cold floor and drop the med-kit. Jack has to count until thirty, taking a deep breath every four seconds, rocking back and forth and squinting his eyes.

 

“C’mon, c’mon…” Jack tells himself, finally breathing properly and the black dots fade away from his vision. “Take care of him, just take care of him…” Jack splashes cold water on his face and he takes the med-kit again in his hand.

 

 _Take care of him,_ he keeps telling himself while leaving the bathroom. _Take care of him, Jack._

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Mark flinches when Jack removes a piece of glass from his foot. Jack winces but continues to remove it with tweezers. There’s warm water in a small bowl next to Jack and he cleans the brunet’s feet with a wet cloth once he’s done, getting rid of the blood. He adds some ointment that was inside the med-kit and he covers Mark’s feet with gauze. The tan man only speaks if Jack directly asks him something.

 

Jack pats Mark’s leg, saying he’s done with the injury and tells him to lie down on the couch, feets resting on the cushions. The Irishman ignores his shaking hands and gets up to clean the rest of the apartment. He sweeps the floor, gathering broken materials and throwing them in the metal trashcan. He picks up Mark’s books, grimacing at the torn pages and he decides to keep them piled up next to the couch. The broken shelf is a lost case, so Jack leaves it like that, only picking up wooden chips.

 

The portrait is on the ground, and it looks like Mark stepped over it. Jack debates whether or not he should go near it. He drags a hand over his tired face and ignores it, telling himself that it’s not important right now. _Mark_ is important.

 

“Have you eaten?” Jack stares at Mark and sighs when he shakes his head. He looks small. He thinks of asking if Mark took a shower recently, but chooses not to. Jack just wrapped his bandages. It’ll be better to keep his wounds away from water.

 

He hears Chica’s paws scratching at the bedroom’s door and Jack opens it, letting her run towards Mark. She whimpers, nudging him several times. Mark pets her a lot. Jack keeps himself busy by going to the kitchen and making a sandwich for Mark. At this point, he doesn’t care if he’s invading his privacy. All he wants is to fix this.

 

Coming back to Mark with a couple of sandwiches, he tells Chica to sit next to them, leaving space for the latter to eat. Mark frowns at the smell and says that he shouldn’t have bothered to do such a thing. Jack buries his annoyance deep down and doesn’t scream a billion reasons why he _should_ do these things. He waits for Mark to bite into the food.

 

“Do you have any other bruises?” Mark shakes his head. “Are you feeling anything else physically?” Jack continues, and the brunet murmurs that he has a headache. The Irishman goes back to the bathroom and opens the cabinet. He finds an appropriate pill and brings it to Mark with a glass of water.

 

Jack sits on the floor, patting Chica. He waits for Mark to finish the sandwiches. An uneasy quietness hovers over them like a blanket. Once he’s done, Jack asks if this has been going on since he left on Saturday. The brunet‘s face crumbles and he doesn’t answer.

 

“Mark…” Jack feels the corner of his eyes burn with unshed tears. ”What’s going on? I need you to let me help you…”

 

Mark shakes his head, letting out a broken sob and covering his face. He lies down in a fetal position and Jack watches him cry. They stay like that for a long time. At one point, he begins to caress Mark’s hair to sooth him and murmurs a lullaby. He rests his forehead against Mark’s shoulder, praying he will be okay. It feels like hours have passed - and it’s probably true - when the brunet’s crying starts to cease. His shoulders stop shaking and he lets his arms fall, exposing his red puffy face to Jack.

 

He watches Mark’s wet eyelashes touch his tan skin with every blink, as he caresses his hair over and over. Mark sighs, swallowing a couple times to speak what’s on his mind.

 

“Why are you still here…?”

 

Jack saddens at Mark’s question, not expecting that. “Because I care about you.”

 

“Why do you care about a dysfunctional person?”

 

“Don’t belittle yourself.”

 

Another silence where Mark seems to think.

 

“Thomas was my brother…” Jack holds his breath listening to Mark and he stops caressing the brunet’s hair, letting his hand rest there. “I had an older brother.”

 

“What happened?” Jack asks when Mark doesn’t continue. They are whispering like it’s a secret to the universe. Mark shakes his head, closing his eyes again.

 

“I can’t see,” he replies instead, knitting his eyebrows. “I can’t _see_ , Jack.”

 

The Irishman chokes, feeling his own tears fall from his eyes. Mark means something much deeper than what he’s said, and Jack knows nothing about it. He feels horrible and useless. But he stays close to Mark, saying he won’t leave until the brunet gets up on his feet. Literally and figuratively speaking.

  


***

  


Jack stirs himself awake with a groan, immediately feeling a pain in his neck due to the awkward position he fell asleep in. He knits his eyebrows, the dream he had fading behind his eyelids. Images of broken glass shining like stars in the sky and the figure of two kids playing in the woods.

 

It leaves a bad taste in Jack’s mouth.

 

He sees that Mark and Chica are asleep, so Jack takes his cell phone out of his pocket and checks his messages quietly. There’s a bunch of texts and calls from Robin and Jack holds back a sigh, feeling bad for worrying his friend and not realizing how late it was already.

 

**To Robin, 2:12pm:**

 

_srry! im in mark’s apt n things r not good, idk when i’ll be back. cover things 4 me?_

 

**From Robin, 2:14pm:**

 

_dude, don’t scare me like that! are you okay? is he okay? :(_

 

**To Robin, 2:14pm:**

 

_tbh? idk… i think i need to keep an eye on him for a while…_

 

**From Robin, 2:15pm:**

 

 _*sighs* okay, got it. don’t worry, i’ll tell them you’re sick for the rest of the week. they won’t notice your absence anyway, so!_ _¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

 

**To Robin, 2:15pm:**

 

_hah! funny. but srsly, thnks buddy. i owe u one_

 

**From Robin, 2:16pm:**

 

_you owe me not just one but precisely 162 by now. you’re welcome._

 

Jack chuckles softly with Robin’s answer and locks his cell phone, putting it back in his pocket for now. Mark is still dead to the world when he looks back at him, but Chica is waking up. There’s a brief second where he panics, not knowing what to do, but he brushes it off. He has to take care of everything step by step. With that in mind, he quietly goes into Mark’s bedroom to get a blanket and uses it to cover the brunet’s frame on the couch. He decides to take Chica out for a second so she can do her business, even though it worries Jack to leave Mark alone.

 

It’s not like he can leave a note saying he’s going to be back. _God,_ he curses. _This is fucking hard._

 

Taking the risk, he picks up Chica’s leash and attaches it to her collar. Jack looks around for the apartment’s key, finding it on a stand, and he makes sure to lock the place up when he leaves. Jack sighs, resting his forehead against the frame. He turns around, ready to go, when the next door apartment catches his attention. They walk towards the 4A doorframe and Jack knocks. After a while, he hears the same female voice from the intercom.

 

“Yes?” She opens the door and her eyes narrow at Jack. “Who are you?”

 

Jack holds Chica’s leash as he studies the woman. She is probably around her mid-sixties, wearing a nice floral dress with her fading red hair tied up in a small bun. “Uh, I’m Jack. The guy who called you this morning?”

 

“Oh! You!” She puts her hands on her hips and her accent is thick. “I noticed the noises have stopped. Did you talk to your friend?”

 

Jack nods. “Yes, I did. I just wanted to thank you for letting me in.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if I didn’t come here today…”

 

“Well…” she sighs. “You’re welcome, boy. I hope Mr. Fischbach is alright. He was being quite troublesome these past few days. I could barely sleep.”

 

“He’ll be fine” Jack nods in sympathy, not wanting to share too much about their lives right now. “Thanks, uh…?”

 

“Amélie.”

 

“Thank you, Amélie.” Jack smiles at her French name, wondering if she’s one those people who have lots of stories to tell. She nods, pushing her glasses up and they say goodbye.

 

Jack takes Chica outside, letting her do her business and he bites on his bottom lip, counting down the time. Once she’s satisfied, he comes back to the apartment and he looks at the couch only to find it empty. Jack’s heart jumps into his throat and a sense of dread hits him like a punch to his gut.

 

“Mark?” He shouts his name, walking towards the house. “Mark?!” The door of the bathroom opens. He places a hand over his own chest, seeing the brunet frown at the ground. He doesn’t think twice when he runs towards Mark, hugging him full force. Mark lets out a gasp in surprise. “Goddamnit, don’t do that to me!”

 

“I was just peeing…” Mark answers, and his arms wrap around Jack’s waist after a moment. His voice sounds distant. Exhausted.

 

Jack shakes his head, burying his face in Mark’s neck. “I’m sorry you woke up and I wasn’t here. I’m sorry if you think I left.”

 

“Stop reading my mind…” Mark brushes off, trying to be funny. Jack lets out a broken sound that is half a laugh, half a sob.

 

Jack explains that he just took Chica out for a moment and then, he moves to look straight at Mark, frowning. “Wait, the fuck are you doing standing up?!” The Irishman begins to drag Mark back to the couch, wanting to look at his wounds.

 

“Again, I had to pee!” Mark puffs in annoyance. The green-haired man checks on the bandages, seeing there are some red spots of blood. He sighs, saying he’ll have to change them for new ones soon, and that he shouldn’t put much pressure on his feet.

 

Jack stares at him when they fall into silence. His eyes are not as puffy as before and Jack is glad Mark managed to sleep. He still looks pretty tired and the Irishman is not sure how to bring up the _I-had-a-brother_ subject without screwing things up even more.

 

“I’m sorry.” Mark breaks his train of thought and he watches the brunet’s lips move with every word. “I haven’t had an episode in a while..."

 

“Don’t apologize,” Jack says, letting his shoulders drop and feeling exhaustion hitting him. “I’m just glad you didn’t get more hurt…”

 

“Yeah, well, I’ve had worse… Thanks, by the way.”

 

Jack grimaces, not wanting to think about a younger Mark having episodes and getting himself hurt. He rubs his temple.

 

“I told Robin I’ll be staying here for the rest of the week and, I know this may sound rude, but I think it’s for the best.” Mark frowns, opening his mouth to speak, but Jack interrupts him. “You’ve been gone for the last couple of days and there is no way I can contact you, unless it’s face-to-face. I had to think of something. I care about you and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

 

Mark huffs, clenching his hands. He watches Mark’s mood spin down in a spiral and his voice snaps harshly to Jack’s ears.

 

“Stop doing that! You think I  _can’t_ take care myself? Yes, I had an episode, but I’ve been going through this for the past few years of my life _without_ your help! I’m pretty sure I can deal with a few tiny cuts, Jack! I’m not in a cage that you can just watch whenever you please!” His tone gets louder after each word and he starts getting up, waving his arms. Jack’s eyes go wide in alarm, burning with new tears and heart racing inside his chest.

 

“The fuck, Mark?!” Jack shouts. “I’m just trying to help!”

 

“I don’t need your fucking help! I don’t need _pity_!” Mark spits the last word like venom and he walks towards the bedroom, leaving small traces of blood on the wooden floor. “I want you to _leave!”_

 

The door slams, Mark’s last words being shouted out, and Jack is left with his own tears, crying and covering his face to muffle the sounds. Chica whimpers and tries to get Jack’s attention, but he can’t focus on anything at all. He feels confused and scared.

  


***

  


Robin sends a questioning look towards Jack when he comes back to their dorm. Jack shrugs, wanting to go to his room and just _sleep._ He doesn’t want to think right now. Leaving Mark’s apartment is a blur in Jack’s mind, with shaky legs and stinging eyes. He falls in bed and buries his face in his pillow. Robin comes to check on him after a while and he sits next to Jack, patting his back and asking what happened.

 

The Irishman mumbles something incomprehensible but Robin nods nonetheless. Jack appreciates Robin’s patience, letting him rest first and just keeping him company for now. He sighs and falls asleep for a couple of hours, only waking up when the Swedish man brings him food and water. He sends a weak smile towards his roommate, digging into the delicious pasta.

 

“Care to explain why your ass is over here?” Robin asks and Jack sighs.

 

He explains what he saw that morning and the state that Mark was in. How scared he felt and how the brunet reacted when he told him about staying for a few days. Robin is serious, thinking about the situation and he hums, scratching the back of his head.

 

“He told me to leave, so I left…” Jack pokes the pasta and stares out the window, noticing it’s night already. He slept the whole afternoon and he wonders if Mark is sleeping.

 

“That’s just stupid,” Robin says, and Jack turns to face him with a frown. “You clearly aren’t doing this out of pity, I know you well enough to say this. And he should know that too. Dialogue is key. Just because he _said_ that, doesn’t mean he _feels_ that.”

 

Jack continues to stare at Robin, wondering why he’s not a psychiatrist.

 

“He was really mad...”

 

“Maybe he wants you to think he’s mad. Maybe he… I don’t know.” Robin sighs. “Jack, you got pretty nervous when he was gone for a couple days. Don’t do the same thing to him. Talk it out…”

 

“Easier said than done…”

 

“Well, no shit, Sherlock! That’s life.” He rolls his eyes and Jack snorts softly. “I’m going to sleep now and if I see your ass tomorrow, there will be consequences. You can even take my car. Look how nice I am, I’m such a good friend. Holy shit.”

 

The corner of Jack’s lips turn into a fond smile. “Thanks, Robin.”

 

The Swedish man stands up to leave the room and he purses his lips, showing sympathy towards his friend.

 

“You’re welcome, Jack.”

  


 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Jack tightens his grip on the steering wheel, parking outside Mark’s building. He stares at the wheel for a long time, taking deep breaths and jiggling his leg. He picks up his bag that has some pairs of clothes and hygiene products to get by, and he puts the strap over his shoulder. The Irishman leaves the car and presses the intercom button. Amélie opens the door for him after a deep sigh. Jack makes a mental note to thank her again soon.

 

He doesn’t knock on Mark’s door, he simply opens it as quietly as he can and looks around for any sign of life. It’s early, around six in the morning. Jack couldn’t wait anymore, so he left before Robin woke up. He figures Mark must still be in the bedroom. At one point, he must’ve opened the door for Chica because she’s nowhere to be seen. So Jack takes off his shoes to avoid making a noise and he places his bag on the kitchen counter.

 

The portrait is still on the wooden floor and this time, Jack picks it up.

 

He feels a pang in his heart staring at the picture. The Irishman’s hand traces the corners of the black frame, scanning the cracks in the glass. Mark is smiling directly to the camera, his eyes locking with Jack’s in a way he can’t quite do anymore. His hair is dyed red in the picture. There’s a man and a woman next to him, and Jack can see resemblance between the three of them very well. The same doe-shiny eyes and smile. He can’t stop looking at it.

 

Even when he hears the bedroom door opening, he can’t stop _looking_ at it.

 

Chica immediately starts making circles around Jack, happy to see him, and that calls Mark’s attention. Jack still keeps looking at the portrait, because this is a Mark he will never get to see. Not fully, no. There’s silence, if not for Chica’s noises in the background. Jack hears shuffling and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mark’s feet.

 

The brunet seems to feel his presence, because he doesn’t bump into him. He just stops right next to Jack and he can’t see Mark’s expression from this angle. So he sighs, taking his eyes off the picture and looking at the brunet, who doesn’t look back at him. It’s a weird feeling. Not knowing what to say, Jack just picks up Mark’s hand and places his fingers around the frame. He watches Mark’s realization of what he’s holding cross his eyes. He clenches the portrait so tight that it cracks some more.

 

The silence is heavy and he can hear the questions in the air. _Who are they? What happened? Why are you avoiding this? Avoiding me? What made your heart shatter like glass?_ Like stars in the sky.

 

Constellations lost in the dark night.

 

Mark swallows, his words shocking Jack.

 

“They are dead,” he searches for Jack’s eyes. “My mom and my brother died because of me.” The Irishman looks down at the frame in Mark’s hand and listens to him talk. “We… We were arguing in the car. I was driving and I lost control of things when we kept yelling at each other… I didn’t see the truck coming and we sort of… just crashed... “ he frowns at his memory. “Thomas died right away, mom fought for a few days. I bashed my head on the steering wheel and I lost my sight completely after a few weeks.”

 

Jack’s vision is blurry because of warm tears and he sobs. Mark seems to be holding his own tears back, so the Irishman forgets about their own arguments and steps forwards to hug him. Jack cries over Mark’s shoulder, hugging him tight and the brunet drops the portrait on the floor, wrapping his arms around Jack’s body. He murmurs he’s sorry nonstop, feeling a pain in his chest that does not compare to what Mark actually feels.

 

Mark’s legs give out, but Jack catches him in time. They sit on the floor and Chica somehow finds a small gap to squeeze between them. The Irishman caresses Mark’s hair, rocking their bodies back and forth. The brunet exhales deeply, melting in Jack’s arms and letting it go.

 

***

 

Mark’s hands grip on Jack’s shirt and he shivers when the brunet inhales on his neck. They’ve stopped crying for a few minutes now, but Jack’s still caressing Mark’s soft hair. He moves to look at Jack, eyes focusing on his cheeks instead.

 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… The things I’ve said…” he murmurs.

 

“It’s okay...” Jack sighs. “It wasn’t right for me to make decisions for you. I should’ve asked first.”

 

They both acknowledge their mistakes and apologize. Mark doesn’t seem to want to let go of Jack, still gripping his shirt tight. It makes the Irishman laugh softly.

 

“Ask me.”

 

Jack blinks a couple of times before understanding what he means.

 

“Can I stay with you for the weekend?”

 

Mark nods. “Yes.”

 

Jack asks him about his wounds and Mark gains some color, a little ashamed, saying he didn’t do anything since he left. The green-haired man suggests that he takes a shower then, so he can change the bandages on his feet. Mark agrees and they get up slowly. Chica wags her tail, showing she’s happy again.

 

Jack busies himself by making some food and coffee. He finds eggs and bacon in the fridge, so he goes for an American-style breakfast. He also finds Chica’s bowl and places some food down for her. He makes sure everything is alright, taking his bag off the counter and leaving it on the ground for now.

 

Mark comes back wearing grey sweatpants and a purple shirt. Jack checks his injuries before they eat, wrapping his feet again with clean gauze and he’s glad it’s not as bad as before. They sit on the counter, side by side, eating breakfast and sipping their coffees. Jack makes sure to ask the brunet if he’s crossing any boundaries he’s not aware of, and the latter slowly speaks up about it.

 

He says how hard it was to go back to a “normal” life after the accident. Jack watches his hands make the actual quotation marks in the air. Mark struggled for years to get back on his feet, to learn Braille, to pay attention to sounds more, to just live a day without lashing out. He doesn’t want a caretaker. He doesn’t want to be treated that way.

 

Jack listens to Mark talk about his previous psychiatrist and psychologist, that sessions wore him out. That he doesn’t want to deal with that ever again.

 

“Mark…” Jack asks. “How long have you been blind…? When…” he trails off. _When did the accident happen?_ remains unsaid.

 

“Seven years ago.” Jack drops the cutlery, making a clashing noise. He covers his eyes, groaning with frustration. Mark was only twenty-four. Mark finds his hand and brings it back to the counter, lacing their fingers together. “I said I don’t want pity.”

 

Jack sighs, holding back another groan. “Continue…”

 

“Thank you.” Mark tilts his hand in a thankful manner. “The accident was seven years ago, but like I said… my vision was only completely gone after a while. My optic nerves were damaged.”

 

Mark also explains how he felt really nauseous, that the light hurt his eyes and that sometimes everything would appear foggy. Jack can’t wrap his mind around the idea of losing his sight gradually. He squeezes their hands together, knowing Mark had to see everything fading little by little. It’s almost torture, having something slowly being taken away from you.

 

“I know I deserve it.”

 

“Goddamnit.” Jack purses his lips. “Don’t you dare say that again. I swear, Mark.”

 

“It’s true, though. It was my fault... I know this is a burden I must carry.”

 

“Stop!”

 

Mark sighs, but doesn’t say anything else. They untangle their hands so they can finish their meal. Jack jiggles his leg, wanting to fix something he’s not allowed to. That’s not what Mark wants. Jack needs to calm down and actually learn, he knows. So he says that out loud. The Irishman tells him exactly that thought, that he wants to understand and stay in Mark’s life without changing him. The brunet grins softly and Jack stares at him. It feels like forever since Mark smiled at him.

 

He’s beautiful.

 

***

 

The rest of the day is peaceful. Jack doesn’t ask about his family for a while to avoid triggering him. He will wait for when the brunet is ready to talk again. For now, they are in bed. Mark has his back to Jack and he’s sitting between the Irishman’s legs. Jack’s fingers trace his back over the purple shirt, leaving words for Mark to guess. This time, he draws a house.

 

“That’s not a word... “ He can tell Mark is frowning by the tone of his voice.

 

“It’s my home back in Ireland.” Jack smiles. “A small wooden cabin, surround by nature.” He feels Mark’s breathing under his fingers while he talks about his life some more, keeping it simple and cheerful.

 

“Sounds like a place I’d like to be.” Mark replies and Jack hums, nodding to himself.

 

“Whenever I get homesick, I just drive to the nearest forest I can find… Or just some random place where there’s no one around. It’s a good feeling.”

 

Mark hums, deep in thought. Jack writes on his back again, sticking his tongue out.

 

“Did you just spell _Dick_ with a heart on the i?”

 

Jack cackles, clapping his own hands and listening to Mark’s bubbly laugh fill the room.

 

***

 

It’s Friday. Jack wakes up on the black couch and sees Chica breathing down in his face. He laughs and moves to sit properly, hugging her as a good morning. Mark opens his door to greet him and they eat together again. Jack is happy to see that the brunet’s cuts are healing and that he’s walking without hesitation. He reminds himself of Amélie and tells Mark that he should thank her for letting him in all these times.

 

“So that’s how you were sneaking inside, huh?” Mark mumbles.

 

“Yep.” The brunet says he can cook something as a thank you and Jack agrees, wanting to join in. “What do you have in mind?” He leans on the kitchen counter.

 

“Brownies?”

 

“Oh god, yes. Who _doesn’t_ like brownies?” Jack exclaims. “Do you only know desserts, though? I gotta know my limits here.”

 

Mark snorts and makes a comical face. “Excuse me! I am _great_ at cooking! I know my shit, alright? I can make pretty much everything.”

 

“Sure.” Jack nods. “You’ll have to prove it, I hope you know that.”

 

Mark rolls his eyes and Jack chuckles. They spend the morning making brownies, listening to music and making sure Chica has her own food too. Again, the domestic image strikes Jack when he’s cleaning the dishes and he drops a plate into the sink. He sighs in relief when it doesn’t break. Mark asks if he’s okay and the Irishman brushes it off. Jack touches his belly, feeling funny inside. He watches Mark put the dishes back into their proper place.

 

After lunch, Jack knocks on the 4A door. Mark is by his side holding a plate filled with brownies. Amélie seems surprised that Mark is there and asks if things are alright. Jack explains briefly that they just wanted to thank her for her patience and kindness. Mark literally just extends his arms so she can take the brownies. Jack bites the inside of his cheek, holding back a laugh.

 

“Oh, thank you! That’s sweet of you!” She smiles and then scans them for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “Jack, my boy, do you speak French?”

 

The sudden question makes him frown, but he nods. “Uh, a bit… why?”

 

“Est-ce que vous êtes petits amis?” she asks directly at him, her accent strong.

 

Jack chokes on air and he can see Mark frowning next to him. “N-Non! Uh, nous sommes juste amis...” he can feel the heat on his cheeks and it gets worse when she just smiles at him. “A-Anyway, thank you, Amélie.” Jack nudges Mark’s elbow so he can speak too.

 

When they say goodbye and she closes her door, Jack buries his face on his hands.

 

“What was that? What did she say? I didn’t know you speak French...” Mark begins to ask when they get back to his apartment.

 

Jack clears his throat, distracting himself with Chica. “Uh, she… She asked if we were boyfriends...”

 

“Oh.” Mark rubs the back of his neck. “And what did you say?”

 

“I, uh, denied.” Jack watches Mark’s cheeks gain some color and he nods.

 

“Well... Hearing you speak another language was quite something, I can tell you that…”

 

Jack chuckles.

 

***

 

The green-haired man sighs, listening to Mark talk about the Punisher for the third time that day after they’ve finished Daredevil season two.

 

“Mark, I get it! You have a crush on the man!” Jack rolls his eyes. “Jeez, keep it to yourself…”

 

Mark laughs, but then he seems to think about it. “Okay, maybe a little.” Jack raises both of his eyebrows, knowing it’s not just _a little_. They stay quiet for a while. Jack goes back to his laptop, but Mark speaks again. “Jack?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Are you feeling homesick?”

 

Jack stops typing a small essay that Robin made sure to tell him about and he stares at Mark. He’s looking at the ground. A blank expression on his face.

 

“Depends. Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”

 

Mark just nods his head, so Jack looks outside to check the weather. The sun will set soon, but there is no sign of rain. The green-haired man gets up, saying they should go now then, before it gets too late. He picks up his jacket and makes sure to put on his boots while Mark gets dressed. The brunet comes back, also wearing a jacket over a dark blue shirt. Jack picks up Robin’s car keys and Chica walks between them when the leave the apartment.

 

The brunet seems to get nervous the more they approach the car and Jack curses out loud. “Mark…” he points at the car in front of them like it’s a giant question mark.

 

He sighs, holding Chica’s leash. “I… I haven’t been inside a car since the accident.”

 

Jack holds his own face. “How are we supposed to do this? We can’t just walk, it’s too far…”

 

“I know…”

 

“Mark?” He touches his elbow to bring him back to reality. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to…”

 

The brunet knits his eyebrows and Jack can feel his anxiety. “I want to.”

 

The Irishman sighs, knowing he can’t change his mind. But he’s worried, nonetheless. Jack suggests that he stays in the backseat with Chica, so she can calm him down in case something happens. Mark agrees to that. Jack opens the backdoor for him and bites his nails, watching Mark slowly get inside. The brunet is stiff, if not for a hand petting Chica. The green-haired man takes deep breaths, closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat. He stares at the steering wheel, cursing the object in his mind. He tells Mark that he’ll be driving very carefully and at low speed.

 

Jack puts on some music to distract them and he rolls all the windows down, so Mark can feel the wind in his face. After a while, the brunet seems to relax a little. Jack focuses on the road, knowing it’ll take a couple of hours for them to arrive at their destination and he makes sure Mark is fine all the way.

 

At one point, he has to pull over because Mark has a panic attack. They rest against car and Jack rubs small circles on Mark’s back, whispering everything that crosses his mind. The latter wants to keep going, though. So once he feels better again, they drive further away from the city.

 

When Jack parks the car near a dirt road, Mark sighs in relief. Jack immediately gets out of the car and opens the door for Mark and Chica. The brunet’s legs are wobbly, but Jack is there to hold him. Jack murmurs assuring words, saying that everything is fine and that he did really good. There is no one near this place, so Chica can run as much as she wants. They are in a small clearing that leads to a forest that Jack has been to before. The sun set when they were still driving, so the stars are the ones that welcome them to the clearing.

 

Mark seems more like himself when they walk through the tall grass. Jack smiles when he takes off his shoes again, feeling the soil beneath his feet. Jack does the same too. They sit in the middle of the clearing, forgetting about time. Forgetting about all their worries. Jack gasps when a couple of fireflies show up and surround them little by little. Chica runs after a few of them, wanting to catch the glowing insects, and Jack laughs.

 

When Mark asks, Jack describes everything he can. He talks about the flowers around them, the leaves shaking from the trees because of the cold wind. Jack looks at the sky and makes up constellations, creating silly stories as he goes. Mark chuckles and the Irishman watches him, the glowing lights casting over them like a blanket. They smile at each other and Mark laces their fingers together again.

 

“You were right.” Mark says after a while. He looks up at the sky and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “It is a good feeling.”

 

Jack is quiet, looking at the brunet with diamond eyes and his heart clenches.

 

Jack falls in love.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Storyboard](https://pinterest.com/sparklepines/branches-and-constellations/) so far :)  
>  Also, excuse my Google-Translator-French. I'm a brazilian writing in english about a character speaking in French, it can be confusing hahaha! ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean i forgot to post the next chapter?? w-what? n-no pfff!! shut up...

 

 

The way back to the apartment is easier.

 

The brunet lies down on the backseat and he doesn’t have another panic attack. When Jack parks the car, he has to shake Mark’s arm slightly because he fell asleep. He smiles at Mark’s sleepy eyes, saying they can leave the vehicle now. Getting inside the house, Jack volunteers to make some pasta with white sauce and Mark absolutely loves it.

 

Chica goes to her own bed to sleep. Jack changes to a lighter t-shirt and sweatpants, getting ready to do the same thing as her. He sighs, holding his cheeks in the bathroom. The Irishman looks at his hands, remembering how it felt to be held by Mark and how their fingers connected perfectly. Holding back a groan, he leaves the bathroom and walks towards the couch, where he has been sleeping. Mark is standing in front of it, as if he was waiting for Jack.

 

“I wanted to say thank you for today…” Mark speaks quietly.

 

Jack smiles. “It was really nice.”

 

“Yes.” Mark shifts on his feet. “Yes, it was.”

 

The green-haired man stares at his dimples and at a couple of moles that he has on his cheek. They also remind him of the stars. Mark asks him something and it takes a few seconds for Jack to process.

 

“What did you say?” he asks.

 

“I, uh…” Mark seems to blush and that makes Jack grin. “You’ve been sleeping on the couch for a while and I know it can be pretty uncomfortable, so… D-Do you want to…” he clears his throat. “Do you want to sleep with me? I mean, next to me. In my bed.”

 

Jack’s stomach does something funny inside again and he flushes. The Irishman’s heart skips a beat, immediately imagining himself lying down in bed with Mark. He can’t help but smile softly at Mark’s awkwardness, trying to be smooth and failing at it. He knows he means well and wants both of them to have a good rest. Still.

 

It’s endearing.

 

“Yeah.” The green-haired man says. “Yeah, I do.”

 

Mark just nods and mumbles something about getting on his pajamas. Jack gathers his blankets and pillow from the couch, folding them properly so the living room won’t be so messy. He makes a mental note of getting rid of that broken shelf in the morning.

 

Jack walks towards the bedroom and he sits on the left side of the bed, waiting for Mark to come back. The brunet is wearing his usual sweatpants again with a black shirt. He slides under the covers and Jack does the same. There are shuffling sounds when they both move to get comfortable and Jack tries to ignore his anxiety, staring at the white ceiling. After a while, he sees Mark huff out of the corner of his eye.

 

“What are you doing?” Jack whispers when Mark begins to move closer and turn towards the Irishman’s back.

 

“It’s called cuddling. Shut up,” Mark murmurs back.

 

Jack’s back rests against the brunet’s chest and he loops an arm around Jack’s waist. Their legs tangle together. Mark’s feet brushing on his Achilles tendons. He’s pretty sure Mark can feel his heart beating madly against his ribcage, so he tries to calm down. The brunet buries his face on the back of Jack’s neck. He shivers.

 

“Sorry.” Mark says.

 

“It’s okay,” the Irishman mumbles. “This is nice.”

 

There’s silence after that. Jack relaxes in Mark’s arms, getting more comfortable and enjoying his warmth. The green-haired man closes his blue eyes, imagining how Mark sees the world. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Different trees that are growing together, their roots and branches merging into one. Jack sighs, feeling safe and sound.

  


***

  


Jack wakes up feeling light as a feather. He’s lying down on his stomach and he opens his eyes to see Mark closer than ever. His arm is resting over the brunet’s chest, like it belongs there. He hasn’t noticed that Jack is awake, so he takes a moment to take it all in. Mark has a soft expression on his face, his hazel eyes looking down at Jack’s throat. He’s blinking lazily and the Irishman loves everything about him.

 

He lets out a breathless chuckle that gets Mark’s attention, his eyes looking up towards Jack’s eyes.

 

“You’re awake.” Jack bites his lips at Mark’s low voice. Jack nods, knowing the shifting of the pillow would be enough for the brunet to understand. “Good morning.”

 

Jack is self-conscious of his arm on Mark’s chest, moving along with his breathing. He ducks his head under the covers just enough to cover his mouth. “Morning…” Jack’s fingers twitch over Mark’s shoulder, wanting to touch more of his skin but holding back his urge.

 

“I dreamed of you.” The brunet sighs, knitting his eyebrows. “Your face was a blur… But I could make out your green hair… Maybe your eyes…” He moves the palm of his hand to Jack’s face, caressing his cheek. “I’m sure the blue of them wasn’t quite right, though…”

 

He has a sorrowful expression and Jack feels a pang in his heart. He gives in to his urge and moves his arm up to Mark’s neck, rubbing the skin behind his ear softly. Mark continues to touch the Irishman’s face deliberately.

 

“I wish I could see you,” Mark murmurs.

 

Jack lowers his eyes and his hand stops moving.

 

He tries to say something back, but can’t think of anything. Jack holds back a sigh and retreats his hand from Mark’s chest. He feels a weird emptiness inside of him and it feels like he’s going to fall apart. The Irishman turns his back to Mark, letting his feet slide down from the bed. He sits up, elbows on his knees and hand resting against his forehead.

 

“Is everything okay?” Jack can hear the confusion in Mark’s voice.

 

“Yeah,” he says. ”Just… gotta use the bathroom.”

 

Jack sighs when he walks away, knowing he probably made things awkward. After a while, Mark also gets up from bed and takes a shower. He turns on the tv, listening to the news while Jack makes breakfast. The brunet murmurs a thanks when Jack gives him coffee and food and that’s pretty much it. The Irishman can tell the latter is still concerned about Jack’s behavior. At one point, the tension in the room is too overwhelming. So the green-haired man tells Mark he’s going out for a walk.

 

“They said in the news that it’ll rain…” Mark knits his eyebrows, crossing his legs on the couch and patting Chica.

 

Jack looks outside the window, noticing it is indeed cloudy. He shrugs.

 

“I won’t be long.” Jack puts on his jacket and leaves the apartment. He just needs to _think._

 

Jack’s hands are inside his pockets, keeping them somewhat warm from the chilling air. He walks a few blocks, not quite thinking where to go. He just wants to _move_ and _think._ His breath forms little clouds and Jack immediately thinks that Mark won’t ever see that again. _Goddamnit,_  he curses. The Irishman never imagined himself in a situation like this. His life is divided into _Before-Meeting-Mark_ and _After-Meeting-Mark._ Jack rubs his eyes, groaning out loud.

 

Falling in love.

 

He didn’t plan to fall in love. But he supposes that no one does, not really. Jack doesn’t even know if Mark feels the same, and the possibility of being rejected frightens him. The idea of loving someone like Mark scares Jack. It’s not the fact that he’s blind, no. It’s the dread feeling of not being able to handle it and fuck it up. _Staying_ in love. Mark deserves someone good enough. Jack doesn’t know if he’s _enough._

 

He’ll also have to deal with different tasks that he normally wouldn’t even think about it. Space, sound, communication, knowing when to actually interfere and help. Mark values his independency. He cannot take over. This whole situation is so delicate. Jack is afraid he’ll break it. The brunet has been through so much already.

 

He doesn’t want to hurt him.

 

Not again.

 

Jack stops walking and he stares at the pavement, just now realizing that it is raining. The small puddle of water in front of him reflects his image. Mark won’t ever see him. Not like this. Not quite. Can someone fall in love without knowing what the other looks like?

 

The Irishman stares at his sad expression in the puddle.

 

He wants to be enough.

 

Jack looks up at the sky, letting waterdrops kiss his face and he closes his eyes. The cold rain washes away the spider webs of his mind, cleaning him from these heavy thoughts. He sees darkness and he pays attention only to the feeling of the raindrops on his skin, streaming down his neck. He sighs. Mark will be even more concerned now that he got caught in the heavy rain.

 

Jack takes a moment to locate himself, then he turns back to the brunet’s apartment. He thinks of how Mark looked this morning, how it felt to wake up next to him. Their hands caressing each other. He needs to focus on these things. The little details.

 

He curses, knowing he’s soaking the hallway carpet. When he opens the door, he sees Mark jumping from the couch and running towards the small corridor where Jack is. Strands of black hair are over his eyes and his lips are red, like he has been chewing on them for a while. He’s saying Jack’s name over and over in a worried tone. Jack just stares at him, slowly grounding himself back in reality.

 

“Goddamnit, Jack!” He whispers, removing Jack’s wet jacket from his body. “I told you it was going to rain. Why didn’t you take my umbrella? You’re freezing!” Jack can’t help but chuckle softly, loving the way Mark makes a fuss over him. He cares so much. After everything he has been through, Jack is happy that he still cares. “What? What’s so funny?”

 

“You.” Jack smiles, his eyes shining because of unshed tears. God, all he does is cry, right? This man is going to death of him someday. “You are.”

 

“I don’t und-”

 

Jack hugs him tightly, feeling his warmth in contrast with his cold body. He breathes into his neck, taking in his scent. He holds Mark’s face with both of his hands and he smells like home. Another sigh of relief when the brunet embraces him too, a little hesitant because of the suddenness.

 

“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” Mark keeps asking, then in a lower voice: “Did I say something wrong...?”

 

Jack shakes his head, moving just a bit so he can look at Mark properly. The Irishman presses his thumb between his eyebrows, soothing his expression. He touches his cheeks, nose and neck. Mark is quiet, letting Jack touch him just like he did a couple of days ago. Jack’s thumb brushes over Mark’s lips and the latter holds his breath. They are so close, the green-haired man can feel the brunet’s breathing hitting his face.

 

_I want to be enough._

 

That thought crosses his mind again and goddamnit, he’ll do his best to learn all of this.

 

“C-Can I kiss you?” Jack tentatively asks.

 

Mark’s doe eyes widen and he takes a few deep breaths before nodding.

 

“Yes...”

 

Jack’s lips brush over Mark’s very softly, the touch barely even there but enough to make the brunet gasp. He tightens his grip on Jack’s hips and they close the gap between them deliberately. They both sigh when kissing each other and Mark adds a little more pressure to their lips, pushing Jack back against the door. The Irishman sucks on Mark’s bottom lip and he loves the sweet sounds that the brunet makes. They tilt their heads to deepen the kiss, opening their mouths to slide their tongues. Jack moans, moving his hands to grip Mark’s hair a little harsher. The tan man groans in response, letting his hands go under Jack’s wet shirt and caressing his skin. Jack shivers, but not from the cold.

 

The kiss is sweet and slow. But full of passion.

 

Time ceases to exists. It’s just him and Mark, resting against the door and making out until until they run of breath. Even then, Jack pecks his lips over and over. Jack can’t get enough of him. Mark smiles when they kiss again, this time more confident and strong. His hands don’t stop moving, wanting to touch Jack everywhere. It makes him chuckle during the kiss. He wants this.

 

 _God,_ he wants this so bad.

 

Mark kisses his neck a few times but he ends up going back to Jack’s lips anyway, murmuring something about how good this feels. Jack hums, heart beating fast and he feels a bit lightheaded when Mark caresses his cheeks.

 

It’s the best feeling in the world.

 

They break the kiss, but bury their faces in the crook of each other’s necks. Again, Jack lets out a sound that’s half a laugh, half a sob. Mark holds him there, keeping Jack from falling apart.

 

“Jack…” The brunet trails off after saying his name, not quite sure of what to say.

 

“I was scared.” Jack speaks in a muffled voice. ”I was so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same… Part of me still is because I know this can be difficult. There’s so many things, I c-can’t...” he trails off when Mark brushes his wet hair.

 

They move just enough to rest their foreheads against each other, and Jack watches him blink. Mark whispers that this is new for him too, and yes, it can be difficult. After the accident, he didn’t try to have any sort of relationship with anyone. It’s an irony of being seen as a burden and being seen as someone that cannot take care of himself. So Mark chose not to approach anyone.

 

“But then there’s you.” Mark smiles softly. “There is you in that goddamn rain, ready to shake my world.”

 

Jack laughs and he kisses Mark again because he can.

  


***

  


Jack takes a shower, putting on a black shirt and grey shorts. They spend the rest of the day lazily in bed, kissing and holding each other. It feels like Jack is in slow motion, gently touching Mark’s face and hair. He’s on top of the brunet, brushing his lips over his skin. Mark shivers and rubs small circles on Jack’s back.

 

He bites Jack’s bottom lip and the Irishman moans. They are craving for contact, but everything is very unhurried. They are expressing their feelings with small touches and it drives Jack insane. He rests his head in the crook of Mark’s neck, his body raising softly with the brunet’s breathing.

 

Up and down.

 

Up and down.

 

He listens to Mark’s heart beat, feeling his pulse and leaving kisses on his collarbone. The tan man gets his attention by moving his hips up a little. Jack gasps, raising his head to look down at Mark. It makes his heart jump into his throat and he watches Mark. He’s trying to lock their eyes and Jack does his best to guide him. Mark asks without saying a word out loud, tightening his grip on Jack’s hips and the latter breathes unsteadily. The Irishman nods, strands of his hair brushing down on Mark’s forehead. But he moves his hips down, adding pressure to their bodies so the brunet will catch the message.

 

His fingers find Jack’s lips and feels his smile, returning the look. Jack adjusts himself a little more, locking his thighs around Mark’s waist and he thrusts his hips. They moan, letting the sensation consume them and they start kissing again. Jack grunts, his hand gripping on Mark’s hair. He’s thankful that their clothes are of a thin fabric, because he can feel their members getting hard pretty well. It makes the Irishman moan into their kiss, rutting faster against each other.

 

Mark fidgets under Jack, wanting to move more and lock his legs around the petite man. The green-haired man lets out a breathless laugh, keeping him still.

 

“J-Jack...” Mark’s voice cracks when Jack shifts to ride him better. His glassy eyes are beautiful.

 

The Irishman shushes him with his mouth and the latter doesn’t complain. He can feel he’s already leaking precome and Mark doesn’t seem that far away to being done either. The warmth below his stomach gets stronger with every movement they make. Mark rolls up Jack’s shirt so he can touch his body, feeling him with his fingers. The green-haired man groans, his back arching. It shouldn’t be that fast to lose themselves with only dry humping but god, it feels amazing. Jack likes seeing Mark’s mouth ajar and the sounds he makes are music to his ears. Their breathing becomes rapidly short and the brunet knits his eyebrows in satisfaction.

 

“Oh god…” Mark mumbles between their thrusts and he stops moving for a second. Jack can feel the brunet spilling come in his pants and the green-haired man trembles, trying to keep himself from falling on top of Mark.

 

His nails dig into Jack’s skin, making him hiss in pleasure. Jack bites down on Mark’s neck, leaving hickies everywhere and he reaches his own orgasm with a final thrust. The waves of pleasure make them spasm in bed and moan out loud. The Irishman groans, knowing his come is leaking down his shorts and that he’ll probably have to take another shower. He still keeps moving after they’re done, though. Jack lazily teases their sensitive skin and Mark catches his breath, dragging a hand over his face.

  
Jack hums, capturing Mark’s lips into his and melting in his arms.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something nice, ay? ;3;  
> Also!!!! atomickoalatimemachiine made this lovely [playlist](https://8tracks.com/willofthewisp/what-made-your-heart-shatter-like-glass)  
> so now we have twooooo!! ♥


	7. Chapter 7

It feels weird going back to their routine at the coffee shop. 

 

It is a Monday. Jack meets Mark and Chica at their usual table. It feels like these last few days were a fever dream that they shared together and it brings a smile to Jack’s face. The rest of the weekend was just the three of them chilling and not wanting to worry about the world. But Jack had to leave the brunet’s apartment and go back to his dorm, going to his classes.

 

Jack stares at the brunet, watching him drink his coffee and eat a piece of cake at 7 am. He looks more rested, more calm. The Irishman blushes, remembering their intimate moment. He ducks his head, playing with the hem of his shirt. The green-haired man remembers how he took care of them, making sure Mark was okay afterwards and receiving kisses as answers.

 

There’s still worry in his heart. 

 

It never left. And something tells Jack that it will take a long time for him to get used to it. He chews the inside of his cheek, knowing there’s still things he doesn’t know about. Mark seems to sense his anxiety, so he asks what he’s thinking. Of course, Jack won’t tell him his worries. Not right now. He won’t make Mark say the things he wants. He needs patience.

 

“You’ve got chocolate on your face.” Jack says instead and Mark leans slightly, so the Irishman can clean the smudge of cake. “There. Now you look good.”

 

Mark rolls his eyes and Jack grins, forgetting his thoughts.

  
  


***

  
  


The kettle chimes loudly in Jack’s ears and he turns off the oven, knowing the water has boiled. He holds it safely and pours it in their mugs, making some apple tea. He adds a bit of sugar to it and then he walks out of the kitchen, giving Mark his drink. He murmurs a thank you and Jack sits next to him on the couch. Chica’s snoring, back resting against the coffee table. 

 

“Jack…” Mark holds the mug with two hands, looking down. “What happens now?”

 

The Irishman watches his steaming mug, chewing the inside of his cheek. He could ask him the same thing. Jack is not sure. It’s a weird feeling that threatens Jack, like it’s going to eat him alive. They both have a lot going on in their minds. Jack wants this relationship, he wants to keep doing this. But he’s afraid. 

 

_ Afraid of what?  _ he thinks to himself. _ Not being able to entertain Mark? Of him getting bored of you? Getting mad that you’re not doing things right? Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right. _

 

“Jack?”

 

“Sorry, I…”  he sighs. “What do you want to do?”

 

Mark knits his eyebrows and Jack wishes he could read his mind for just a second.

 

“I don’t know.” He sips some of his tea. “This is different.”

 

“What is different?”

 

“You. Us.”

 

“Is it a good or bad different?”

 

Mark squints his eyes, waving his hand in a comical manner. “A special kind of different?”

 

Jack snorts. “That’s stupid.”

 

“There’s also that.”

 

The green-haired man laughs but then he stops to think, drinking his beverage to give him time. There are small things he doesn’t know how to react to. If they’re going to date, Jack has to think whether the place he wants to take Mark is appropriate. It’s not like he can just take him to the movies. Can he? Will Mark feel bothered by it?

 

“I want to date you,” Jack says while pushing his legs up. “That’s… pretty much what I have figured it out up until now. I really like you.”

 

Mark looks towards him and Jack feels somewhat embarrassed for saying that out loud. He feels like a teenager with a crush. The brunet smiles, placing one hand over Jack’s.

 

“That’d be nice,” Mark murmurs. “I really like you too.”

 

He also says that taking things slow might be a good start, even though they kind of reached second base already. Jack snorts, blushing a bit but understanding what he means anyway. Mark will have off days and Jack needs to respect that. He does convince Mark to stay close if another episode happens. They spend a couple of hours just talking about boundaries and what would feel better for the other. It eases Jack’s heart some more and he rubs his thumb over Mark’s hand.

 

When the brunet asks for his phone number, Jack blinks several times. Mark, apparently noticing the quietness, gives more information to the Irishman.

 

“I’ve got a smartphone that’s especially for blind people. I never quite liked it, though. It’s… It can make me frustrated if I’m having an off day. But now I can use it because it’ll help you too, right?”

 

“Y-Yeah. That’d be really helpful if something happens…” Jack nods. Again, the new shift in his world. Jack never stopped to think about that. “Where is it?”

 

Mark rubs the back of his neck. “Probably in my closet… I threw it there once.”

 

Jack would give him a stern look, but he keeps it to himself. Instead, he goes to Mark’s bedroom and opens his closet, pushing clothes away from his face. He kneels down and fumbles with some boxes until he finds the cell phone. Jack comes back to the couch and turns the cell phone on. He asks if Mark wants to type Jack’s phone number and the latter nods. Jack listens to the phone speak everything that Mark does, guiding him through the numbers. Once it’s done, Mark places it over on the coffee table.

 

Jack looks at him. He knows that Mark has trouble accepting his condition sometimes. That some days, he doesn’t want to put on Chica’s vest and let people know that he is this way. Mark doesn’t like messing with a phone like that because it makes the whole situation more real. More frustrating. But he’s still trying and that’s what matters. The Irishman smiles.

 

“I’m going to kiss you on the cheek now,” Jack says.

 

When he does, he can feel Mark smiling and leaning towards him.

 

***

  
  


“How are the lovebirds doing?” Robin asks in a singsong voice while entering Jack’s room without knocking.

 

“Dude, I could be doing some really private shit right now.”

 

“Except you’re not.” 

 

He lies down in bed next to Jack and the Irishman rolls his eyes, knowing that discussing anything with Robin is a lost cause. Jack turns his attention back to his laptop, knowing he has some work to do because of his absence in class. Robin pokes him.

 

“Yes, Robin?”

 

“I need to know.”

 

“Know what?” Jack looks at him and he laughs when Robin pouts. “Oh my god, fine!”

 

The Irishman says that he’s dating Mark and the Swedish man lets out happy sound, bumping their shoulders together. Talking to Robin about it makes it more real and Jack takes a moment to wonder if that’s how Mark feels towards his vision. Still, it feels nice having Robin around. They chat until the latter ends up falling asleep next to Jack. Again.

 

He keeps himself busy, finishing his work. Then, Jack opens a new tab and begins to read a bunch of articles about visual deficiency and how to cope. Jack bites on his bottom lip while reading, searching for Braille. He studies that for a long time, wanting to learn. More tabs are open and his eyes hurt a bit after staying so long staring at the computer screen, but he continues to study all night.

  
  


***

  
  


Jack also sees Mark and Chica in the afternoons now. It’s a nice routine and Jack loves being welcomed by the brunet with a kiss. Sometimes they go to the park, sometimes they stay inside. Right now, they are making cupcakes in Mark’s kitchen and Jack chuckles when Chica breathes down on his leg. He pats her, giving her a dog treat.

 

Mark just took a shower and strands of his wet hair keep falling in front of his face. He’s picking up a plate for the cupcakes and Jack is taking them out of the tray, since they are cool enough. When he moves a few of them, he stops and gasps.

 

“What?” Mark asks.

 

“Dude!”

 

Jack makes wide movements with his arms, pointing down at the tray in excitement. He tells Mark to wait a second. Jack rearranges them, leaving some spots empty. After that, the green-haired man picks up Mark’s hand and tells him to say what he sees. The brunet frowns, but touches the tray and the cupcakes that are in the order Jack wanted. He looks at Mark and at the tray back and forth.

 

“See? Get it?” Jack beams when Mark laughs.

 

“It’s Braille.” The brunet taps softly at the two cupcakes in the top and the one in the bottom. “Did you just write an  _ M _ with cupcakes?”

 

“Fuck yeah I did!” Jack laughs, happy that he saw something in a new way. “Here!” The Irishman changes the order again, placing some cupcakes to the right side. “Now it’s a  _ J  _ for Jack.”

 

“Are you… Are you learning Braille?”

 

Jack’s ears turn pink. “Maybe. A bit. Yes…”

 

Mark shakes his head, holding Jack’s face with his hands. “You’re quite something, Jack…”

 

He leans forward and Jack accepts the kiss gladly, touching Mark’s damp hair. He yelps when the brunet lifts him from the floor, then laughs from the latter’s happiness. He sighs into their kiss, tilting his head for a better angle. Mark’s strands of hair are longer between his fingers and he hums, breaking the kiss.

 

“You need a haircut, boo.”

 

“Boo?” Mark’s eyebrows raise.

 

“S-Sorry, it just came out.”

 

“I like it.” The brunet smirks while putting Jack down.

 

Jack bites his lips. “I… I could cut it for you, if you want. I’m used to cut my hair, so...“

 

Mark’s eyes flicker, lost in thought for a moment. Jack almost asks if he ruined the moment, but then Mark nods slowly. 

 

“Yeah…” He kisses Jack’s cheek. “That’d be nice.”

 

They walk to the bathroom, forgetting the cupcakes for now. Jack tells Mark to sit on the edge of the bathtub because it’ll be easier to move around and he gets the clippers from the cabinet. If Mark didn’t trust him before, he definitely trusts him now. Jack chuckles at the thought but feels a bit anxious, not wanting to fuck this up. He’ll just cut a little with the scissors first so it won’t be in the way and the rest can be done with the clippers. Jack buzzes Mark’s hair, seeing it fall on the floor. Mark hums.

 

“My mom used to do this.” Jack stops for a second before continuing again, holding his breath and letting Mark talk. “She would play some old songs and we’d sing together.”

 

“Old songs, eh?” Jack murmurs with a smile.

 

“Yeah.”

 

He doesn’t say more, so Jack finishes buzzing Mark’s hair after a while. He’s content with the result. The brunet has a fresh undercut now and Jack caresses him, seeing Mark has his eyes closed.

 

“You look nice.”

 

“I’ll trust you on that, boo.”

  
  


***

  
  


“Am I seeing a CD in your hand? What are you doing with a CD in your hand?” Robin asks with wide eyes. “Where did you even find that?”

 

“In your fucking room, obviously.”

 

“Do you hear that?” Robin looks around the room in a comical manner. “That’s the sound of me not laughing.”

 

Jack snorts, finishing the small idea he had and then writing down his name on the CD. He picks up his backpack to get ready to leave and visit Mark. The Irishman says his goodbye to Robin and starts walking down the street, listening to the traffic sounds. Arriving at the brunet’s apartment, Mark greets him with a smile and Jack hugs Chica.

 

He tells Mark he has something to show him and he gets the CD out of his bag, letting Mark hold it. He takes it from the transparent case and feels the round material, frowning at it.

 

“Alright. What does that mean?” he asks.

 

“I saw you had an old CD player, so I made a short playlist for you. I know you won’t see it, but there’s my name on it because… I don’t know, I felt it was right.” 

 

Mark grins, nodding and thanking Jack. So the green-haired man takes it back from Mark’s hand and puts it in the player, starting the [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrI-UBIB8Jk&index=1&list=PL6XgzmiBk09HZU9tYfb6YZjpwYN54DMbQ). He feels a trace of anxiety down in his stomach, hoping nothing goes wrong and that the brunet understands what he means by this. Jack turns to see him when the first song plays and Mark’s eyes widen. He laughs out loud, throwing his head back.

 

“You cheesy bastard!”

 

Jack shrugs, the tips of his ears getting red. He chuckles softly and walks towards Mark. “You said that your mom used to play old songs…” he trails off.

 

“Yeah,” Mark whispers. “Yeah, I know.”

 

The brunet huffs with a smile, shaking his head and murmuring that Jack keeps surprising him with small things. The little details he so much cares about. Mark holds Jack’s hips and begins to sway, making the Irishman laugh. He wraps his hands over the brunet’s shoulders and they start dancing. When the second song comes with its chorus, they sing out loud and spin in the apartment. Chica joins the dancing, following them where they go.

 

Jack dramatically sings and awkwardly moves, making Mark laugh. He looks down at Chica and pats his own chest, so she can jump and Jack can hold her paws. The Irishman describes what she’s doing and how adorable she is. Jack tells Mark she’s a better dancer than him and the brunet pouts. 

 

They stay like that during the whole playlist, just having fun and singing their hearts out. Jack’s a little breathless and his cheeks hurt from smiling. Chica left to rest already and Mark holds Jack closely, lifting him from the floor again to spin the short man. He pushes Jack against one of the brick walls between the glass window and they kiss.

 

Jack locks his legs around Mark’s waist and hums in their kiss, tilting his head. The green-haired man adores the taste of his lips and Mark rests his chest against Jack’s. They sigh and the brunet moves down to his neck, leaving love bites that send a shiver down Jack’s spine. It makes his back arch and he moves his head to show more skin, moaning softly. Mark growls, biting him harder and one hand travels down Jack’s crotch. The Irishman gasps with the contact and hugs Mark even more.

 

“I thought you wanted things to go slow…” Jack whispers in his ears and his breathing breaks when Mark presses his hand against him again.

 

“Well…” Mark murmurs. “You’re quite distracting.” Jack lets out a breathless laugh and then he groans when Mark keeps moving. “I like hearing you like this.”

 

Jack moans and Mark hums, capturing their lips for a kiss and the Irishman grips onto Mark’s shoulders. The brunet rolls Jack’s shirt up just enough to get under it, touching his happy trail. Jack shudders, hiding his face against Mark’s neck when he unbuttons his pants. He likes being pressed against the wall by Mark. It makes him feel safe and loved. Jack gasps when Mark’s fingers wrap around his cock and he thrusts shyly when the brunet starts moving. 

 

“You’re blushing, aren’t you?” Mark’s lips brush on Jack’s ears. “By the sounds you make, you sure do like being exposed like that. Don’t you, Jack?”

 

“Jesus, Mark…”

 

The Irishman grunts when Mark presses his thumb over Jack’s head. The brunet adjusts their position so he can rut against Jack’s thigh. The green-haired man opens his mouth to breath down on Mark’s neck, biting on his skin a couple of times while they thrust together. Jack mumbles incoherent things, the music fading into the background. He tightens his legs around Mark’s hips, his toes curling because of the pleasure. The heat below his stomach feels like a knot inside him and Jack gets louder and louder. 

 

He moves one hand down to Mark’s pants, unbuttoning it just like the brunet did to him. Mark gasps and Jack stares at him. His red mouth and disheveled hair turning Jack on even more and he groans, jerking Mark off. The Irishman’s glassy eyes look down at their hands and his cock twitches at the sight. He stops touching Mark for a second when he feels his orgasm hitting him and Jack shouts, spasming against the brunet. Blinking a few times and breathing heavily, his hand moves again and it doesn’t take too long for Mark to come.

 

Jack retreats his hand from Mark’s pants and licks his own fingers, tasting the saltiness of it. Mark grunts, listening to Jack. Mark pushes his hand away to kiss Jack hard enough to make him whine and sigh in content. Their tongues meet and Mark hums, tasting himself in Jack’s mouth. They stay like that for a moment, catching their breaths. The music has stopped playing a long time ago and Jack has that high afterglow feeling.

 

“That…” Jack whispers, dragging hair out of his face with his clean hand. “That was really hot.”

 

“Yeah.” Mark’s voice is muffled. He’s still keeping Jack against the wall, hugging him tight. “I’m sorry if I pushed you.”

 

“No way,” the Irishman sighs. “Do that more often.”

 

Mark chuckles and Jack likes feeling his body shake with laughter. It makes him feel fuzzy inside. Jack rubs his cheek against Mark’s, saying they need to get themselves clean. Mark huffs, but finally walks away from the wall with Jack in his arms. His legs feel wobbly when the tan man lets him walk again. Mark tells him to go to the bathroom first and that he’ll get him something to wear. Jack blushes. All the confidence from before is washed away when he notices some of his come got on his shirt, so he asks for a new one.

 

Mark knocks on the bathroom door and Jack opens it to see him with a clean set of clothes. He takes them, closing again to clean himself with a wet cloth. Jack reddens even more when he realizes Mark only gave him a boxer briefs and a black sweatshirt that looks huge on him. Jack wasn’t planning on any of this to happen, otherwise he’d have brought some spare clothes. The sweatshirt smells like the brunet, making him feel warm inside. 

 

He gets out of the bathroom, telling Mark that he can go now and he waits for him on the couch. He hugs his legs and thinks that he needs to take care of his own heart too. He feels so much towards the brunet, that it can be incredibly overwhelming. He perks up when Mark comes back and he embraces his waist, resting his face on Mark’s stomach. He sighs when the brunet pats his hair.

 

Jack closes his eyes and behind his eyelids, he sees branches wrapping around their hearts.

  
Keeping them whole and steady.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that I'm still updating the [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6XgzmiBk09HayGSjPFozyJB6IDYm46yK)  
> and the [storyboard](https://pinterest.com/sparklepines/branches-and-constellations/) ♥  
> All the playlists are also on spotify! I'm marvelsoo there. Or just search the title if you want :)
> 
> EDIT ON 05/04: Guys, i'll be travelling tomorrow and I'll be back only on Wednesday! Letting you know that I'll be away from computer and not be able to post until then!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo, I'm back from my trip!!! Sorry it took me a while to post this. Hope you enjoy :) ♥

A week goes by.

 

This time, Robin comes along with Jack to the coffee shop to meet Mark. They greet politely and Robin shows his excitement pretty well. The Irishman feels a bit anxious about this encounter. When they place their orders, Jack stops to look at them and it just hits him that the two most important people to him are in the same place. Three, actually. Of course Chica counts.

 

He smiles fondly, watching Robin and Mark talking casually and laughing. Chica is resting over Jack’s feet under the table like always, but she did show her happiness with Robin before lying down. He drinks his beverage, finally telling the Swedish man that _this_ is real coffee and he groans when his friend begins to talk about embarrassing stories regarding the green-haired man.

 

“Okay, so…” Robin says. “One time, Jack got really drunk after a party and he forgot the keys to our dorm. I didn’t know him very well back then, so I wasn’t there to help. I only found him the next morning. Do you wanna guess where Jack ended up?” He pauses when Mark chuckles, saying to go ahead. “I found him in the middle of the football field. Face down. Only wearing his underwear. Drooling.”

 

“Robin!” Jack groans and Mark cackles in the background.

 

“It’s true, don’t deny it. We’ve all been there.”

 

The brunet doesn’t stop laughing and Jack just shakes his head.

 

“Hey, at least I was wearing underwear,” Jack sighs. “Grass tastes bad, though.”

 

“See? I’m giving you the important information, Mark.” Robin nudges the brunet’s shoulder and Jack sighs, hearing them chuckle.

 

Needless to say, they get along pretty well. Robin hugs Jack when they leave the place and the Irishman is surprised by that.

 

“What was that for?”

 

Robin smiles at him. “I’m just happy for you. He’s great, Jack.”

 

The green-haired man huffs with a small grin on his face, feeling his cheeks get warm. He thanks the Swedish man for keeping them company and the latter is more than happy to go out again. Jack is glad about that, thinking that some nights out will definitely be something new and fun to do.

 

***

 

Jack’s cell phone buzzes over his table and he tears his eyes away from his sound design project. Mark’s name shows up on the bright screen and he accepts the call, sliding the green button and a smile easily shows up on his face.

 

“Hey! How are you doing?” Jack says.

 

There’s no answer right away and he can hear some noises in the background that are quite concerning. He frowns, smile fading away when a different voice reaches his ears instead of Mark’s.

 

_“H-Hello? Are you Jack?”_

 

He frowns even more, realizing it’s a woman and he can hear shuffling in the background.

 

“Yes, who is this? This is not your cell phone.”

 

 _“I-I know! Something happened. My n-name is Hannah.”_ She’s clearly nervous over something and what this lady tells Jack, makes him feel even more worried. _“There was a car crash in front of the park and I saw him freak out. I didn’t know he was blind! He won’t let me go near him. All he keeps saying is your name and this number was on his screen. I t-think he’s having a panic attack.”_

 

Jack’s heart beats like a drum and he tightens his grip on his cell phone, wide eyes staring at the wall. He immediately gets up to find his pair of shoes and runs inside his room to grab his stuff.

 

“A car crash?! Where exactly? Was he involved? Is he okay?!”

 

_“He’s fine. I mean… no injuries. Some idiot didn’t respect the traffic sign and two cars hit each other. I think the noise startled him.”_

 

Jack curses out loud and then he asks for the proper directions, glad that this person is helping him. Once he knows the location, he ends the call in a hurry. The Irishman walks down the stairs, shouting at Robin that he’ll take his car and he doesn’t bother to wait for an answer. Jack can’t stop to think twice if it’s stupid to arrive in a car. All he wants is to get there as fast as he can. And that’s all he knows.

 

He grips the steering wheel, driving in a weird half-conscious state. Jack shakes his head, wondering what the hell Mark was doing in a park far away from his apartment and why he didn’t say anything to him. Jack parks the car next to the curb and he sees the vehicles with their fronts crushed in. He walks over, seeing that some people gathered themselves in a circle and are murmuring in curiosity.

 

Jack half walks, half runs into the park, searching for Mark. He drags his hand over his hair when he spots the man and a girl standing a few steps away. Mark is hugging Chica, rocking back and forth. The girl is biting on her nails and he can see Mark’s phone in her hand. She notices him coming over and she rests a hand over her chest, worry flashing in her eyes.

 

“Jack?” He nods at her question. “Oh thank god! I didn’t know what to do… Here.” She gives him Mark’s cell phone.

 

“T-Thank you,” Jack shakily whispers. “I can take care of him now. Just… thank you.”

 

She’s doesn’t seem convinced by Jack’s words, but she leaves them when he assures her that everything will be okay and that he appreciates her help. He watches the accident site while she walks away. When they are alone, he takes his eyes off the wreck and focuses on the brunet instead. Jack’s hands are shaking and he crouches down to look at Mark.

 

“M-Mark?” Jack swallows.

 

Chica whimpers at Jack, not leaving Mark’s embrace. The brunet’s eyes are not quite focusing on anything and he’s not making any sense. The sound of the cars colliding must have triggered something in him and Jack can’t imagine what he must be going through right now. The Irishman can feel his own panic attack crawling down his spine, but he needs to be in control for this. He closes his eyes, counting to ten, before talking again.

 

“Mark, love?”

 

His head perks up and Jack grimaces at Mark’s desperate look. His eyes try to find Jack’s in vain and he extends a hand, which Jack gladly takes. He rubs his thumb over Mark’s hand and the latter’s breathing is too short, making him choke. He’s hyperventilating.

 

“Jack. Jack, I’m s-sorry. I t-tried to call you. I tried but I c-couldn’t move...” he mumbles. “It’s all my fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fucking fault, Jack… I can’t see...”

 

The Irishman moves closer so he can wrap his arm around the brunet. “Mark, everything is okay. It’s not your fault. You’re safe. Do you hear me?” Jack tries to calm him down. “No one got hurt. You’re safe.”

 

Mark tries to suck in air but fails, and his body is shaking desperately. Jack whimpers. He drags Mark’s hand to rest over his chest.

 

“Do you feel this? Listen to my heartbeat. Breathe with me, Mark.” Jack takes a deep breath, holds in for four seconds and then exhales through his mouth. “Breathe with me. One, two, three, four...”

 

There’s a broken branch around their hearts that exposes Mark more than he wants to. Jack wants to fix it. However, before he can even begin to get him out of here, he needs to calm Mark down. Then, he’ll need to know if the brunet is fine by going home in a car or just walking.

 

Walking, probably. Definitely. _Don’t be stupid now, Jack._

 

“Come back to me,” he murmurs.

 

Mark copies his breathing and Jack rests his forehead against Mark’s, green hair falling in front of his eyes. Jack ignores the rushed noises in the background, the sound of people murmuring and the traffic. He tells Mark to focus on him, on Chica. Jack describes little things that cross his mind. Their skin, warm because of the sun, the softness of Chica’s fur beneath their fingers, their hands laced together. The green-haired man keeps talking until the brunet’s breathing is back to normal. Mark lets his head rest on the crook of Jack’s neck and the Irishman pats his hair.

 

“I wanna go home,” the brunet murmurs.

 

Jack purses his lips, not knowing if he’s referring to his apartment in Los Angeles or his childhood house. He doesn’t ask. Instead, he caresses Mark’s hair again and nods. He tells him they should leave and asks if he can walk. Mark doesn’t answer right away, but he tries to get up. His legs fail a couple of times and Jack catches him, keeping him standing. The brunet nods after a moment and he holds Chica’s leash, letting her guide him.

 

They walk very slowly and they don’t talk at all. Jack feels uneasy starting any sort of conversation when there’s a lot of noise around them. He chooses to wait and patiently holds Mark’s hand, making sure to stay between him and the road. The Irishman sighs in relief when they arrive at the building, taking Mark’s key to open the door and pushing the button of the elevator for them.

 

Mark has that blank expression on his face that scares Jack more than anything. He’s afraid that the brunet will get lost in his own mind and that one day, he won’t come back. It’s a weird and dark thought that Jack very much wishes would go away. They walk to the bedroom and Mark sits down on the bed, Chica doesn’t leave his side. Jack knows he has to go back and get Robin’s car, so he tells Mark about it and that he’ll be right back.

 

Jack really has to trust that Mark won’t do anything to hurt himself and that he’ll just stay in bed while he’s gone. The green-haired man still makes his way back as fast as he can, running to the park and getting in the vehicle. The ride is a blur and he’s breathing heavily when he enters Mark’s apartment once more. He’s tired from the run but glad that it didn’t take too long.

 

He sees Mark lying in bed hugging Chica and he bites on his bottom lip, finding it adorable. He’s breathing normally and Jack sighs, dragging his hands over his hair. Jack watches them for quite a while, zoning out and keeping himself together. When Mark moves, Jack takes a step forward so the wooden floor will creak. It catches the brunet’s attention and he turns his head towards Jack with narrowed eyes.

 

“Hey, boo,” the Irishman whispers the nickname.

 

“Jack.”

 

He’s not sure if he should invade Mark’s personal bubble just yet, so he remains standing in front of him. Mark blinks a couple of times and he nudges Chica, so she can leave the bed. Jack presses his fingernails onto his palm and chews the inside of his cheek, as always. When the brunet starts sitting up, the green-haired man tells him to stay there. Mark grunts, knitting his eyebrows, but he rests his back against the bedframe. After a moment of silence, Mark speaks quietly and Jack listens.

 

“That day we met… I said to you that I was waiting for the rain to stop, didn’t I?”

 

“Yeah. Why are you bringing this up?” Jack frowns.

 

“I lied.” Mark rubs his eyes. “I was standing on the curb ready to step forward and let fate decide what to do with me. I was going to do it, whatever it was. But then, Chica ran away and I just… I grounded myself again and went after her,” he sighs. “Do you really want to stay in a relationship with someone like that? Do you? Won’t you get tired of watching me having crisis after crisis?!”

 

Jack grimaces, digging his nails deep into his skin. He didn’t know. Jack wasn’t aware that Mark thought about these things, these dark thoughts that grow in his mind. The Irishman can see that the latter is getting angry, more at himself than anything. He asked if Jack will get tired of him. The green-haired man has the same question towards Mark. It makes him realize that everyone must think that way. Everyone must feel that fear at one point. Of not being enough. Of being left alone.

 

“Life isn’t simple, Mark. Relationships aren’t simple. It takes effort to make it work and I unders-”

 

“You _don’t_ understand! You don’t know what this feels like!” Mark snarks back.

 

“No! No, I don’t! Yet here I am, trying to do just that!” Jack throws his hands in the air, frustrated with Mark’s behavior. “You can’t just point at something and say _You can’t have this, you’re not allowed to!_ I have my own goddamn choices and I won’t just leave you after everything that’s happened!”

 

“That’s pity.”

 

“Mark, goddamnit!” Jack shouts but then he takes deep breaths, controlling the tone of his voice. “You cannot label my feelings as simply _pity._ You know that’s not true and it just fucking hurts.”

 

The brunet grunts, narrowing his eyes and taking deep breaths. The next time he speaks, however, his voice is soft and low.

 

“I wouldn’t be mad if you left, you know. I’d get it…“

 

There’s silence after that. Jack shakes his head quietly to himself and finally approaches Mark, sitting on the edge of the bed to look at him. He takes Mark’s hand, rubbing small circles on it and he sighs.

 

“You’re not letting yourself enjoy things. You need to let go.” Jack caresses his cheek and the brunet is quiet, listening to him. “Just… Be my boyfriend. Let’s enjoy this between us. You don’t have to carry the whole world on your back, Mark. But if so, at least let me help carry it with you.”

 

The tan man inhales deeply, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders fall. The green-haired man weakly smiles when Mark slowly nods and his hand touches Jack’s.

 

***

 

Jack feels emotionally exhausted, so he buries his face in the pillow and he can feel Mark touching his tattoo on his right arm. His hand hovers over his skin and he traces the ink symbol lightly, making Jack shiver. They’ve been lying in bed for a few hours now, both of them wanting to rest due the day’s events. Mark asks the meaning of the tattoo quietly and Jack mumbles about a videogame he likes, explaining the symbols from it. The tan man hums. His eyelashes touch his skin whenever he blinks and Jack thinks it’s pretty.

 

“My dad had a tattoo of the American flag. Eagle and everything.”

 

Jack perks up at that, curious about Mark’s life. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is he alive?” Jack can’t help but whisper the question and Mark shakes his head. “What happened to him?”

 

“Cancer.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Mark smiles at Jack, saying that it’s okay. He speaks some more about his father and the Irishman can feel the love in his words. Jack also finds out that Mark is half-German, half-Korean. His eyes kind of gave away that second part, but Jack is surprised about the other half. He hums when Mark says he’s from Ohio, Cincinnati. There’s so much he doesn’t know.

 

“Have you ever seen Los Angeles before? Or is this your first time living here?”

 

“I have visited it a couple of times, so I know what a few places look like.”

 

Jack thinks Mark is feeling a little bit nostalgic after the panic attack. It probably brought up memories from the past and he wants to talk about some of them. The Irishman listens and takes this small opportunity to ask when the brunet’s birthday is. He tenses up a bit next to Jack, taking his time to answer.

 

“June 28th.”

 

“Dude, it’s next month!” Jack says, realizing they’re already in the beginning of May.

 

“About that…” Mark squints his eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“The accident was a week before that.”

 

“Oh.” Jack’s mouth falls open. “Fucking hell _,_ Mark.”

 

“I know.”

  
The green-haired man curses out loud, hating the universe. They stop talking afterwards. Jack gets closer so he can hug the man and Mark sighs into the crook of his neck, accepting the contact. The Irishman lets him fall asleep. Jack stays awake, staring at the white ceiling and thinking about what he can do to make things better. He wants Mark to be happy. He’ll do anything to see him smile. Jack rubs his cheek on the brunet’s hair and loses himself in his thoughts.

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Jack rubs his tired eyes and stares at his computer screen. The brightness of it hurts his blue eyes, but he keeps reading about Braille in the middle of the night. The Irishman studies as much as he can in his spare time, after dealing with his essays from college. The corner of his lips form a small smile when he remembers the first time Mark started teaching him a few days ago. The brunet traced the Braille symbols of The Little Prince book and began to read out loud, guiding Jack into this new world.

 

It’s hard, but he’s beginning to learn the patterns and identifying basic words.

 

He fidgets with his fingers, biting on his bottom lip when he comes across something that catches his eye. Jack opens a few links and searches about the product that was recommended on his feed, debating if it’ll be worth getting as a gift. His heart races just with the idea of giving something to Mark, so he adds the item to his virtual cart and buys it with his credit card. It’ll take awhile for it to arrive, but he’s already anxious.

 

After that, he turns off his computer and lies down in bed. Jack looks at his tattoo, tracing it with his fingers just like Mark did on that other day. He sighs, still wishing for the brunet’s happiness. He’s been feeling better, for sure. But he’s not going out as much as before. Some days Jack will get to the coffee shop and find their table empty. So he’ll have to text Mark, hoping the latter has his cell phone near and wait for a short answer instead of invading his personal bubble all the time.

 

He falls asleep feeling cold.

  
  


***

  
  


“Do you want to visit them?” Jack asks after giving up on reading The Little Prince in Braille. He continues to stare at the book, not wanting to see Mark’s reaction. They are sitting on the couch and Jack’s playlist can be heard faintly in the background. “Your family?”

 

“What do you mean?” Mark’s voice is soft when he speaks, so Jack considers that as a mini victory already. He wouldn’t want to stress Mark.

 

Still, he licks his lips before saying more of his thoughts. Then Jack looks at him, because he can’t ever stay that long without seeing him anyway. He’s frowning a little bit and the Irishman can tell it’s out of curiosity, not anger.

 

“Do you want to go to Ohio with me?”

 

Mark’s laugh throws Jack off. He wasn’t expecting this reaction.

 

“Woah there, you already want to travel with me?” he chuckles and Jack can’t help but blush a bit at that.

 

“Mark, I mean it.”

 

His laugh dies down and his expression gets serious. Mark clears his throat, turning his body slightly towards Jack so he can talk in his direction. His eyebrows are knit and he swallows hard a couple of times, clenching and unclenching his hands. Jack waits. He let’s him think about what he is proposing, knowing it’s a lot to process.

 

“Why?”

 

“I just…” Jack sighs. “I think it’ll be important. For you. For both of us. I know it may sound crazy, but we’d have some time to organize a small trip and I wouldn’t mind eating only ramen for a whole month because of it.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I… I can’t leave Chica alone here. I can’t just  _ go _ , Jack…” he scowls. “Why do you even bother to-”

 

“You know why,” Jack interrupts him, not wanting to start another discussion. Mark lets out a small groan and he scratches the back of his neck. “Robin could take care of her… He wouldn’t mind. But I want to be clear that I’m just suggesting this. I want you to make your own choice, okay?”

 

Mark nods, murmuring a thanks and saying he’ll at least think about it. The green-haired man grins at the answer, taking what he can get for now.

  
  


***

  
  


There’s a small package on his bed when he opens his bedroom door. Jack picks it up and smiles after scanning the little box. Robin knocks on his doorframe to announce his presence and Jack turns to look at him, realizing the Swedish man got his mail for him when he was away.

 

“What do you have in mind?” Robin wiggles his eyebrows and Jack snorts.

 

“It’s just a gift.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“A good gift.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

Jack places the package in his drawer, saving that for later. They walk downstairs to make some food and they discuss which movie they should watch tonight. The Irishman convinces Robin to see Reservoir Dogs  _ and _ the extra material afterwards, so he can talk about the improvised scenes. The Swedish man chuckles when Jack gushes about the movie and everything feels really nice. The green-haired man laughs when Robin says he’d definitely want to be called Mr. Brown despite the joke they make. Jack says he’d probably be Mr. Blonde and Robin gasps at that.

 

“But he’s mean!”

 

“He’s badass, that’s what he is!”

 

After another discussion, they clean the dishes and Jack takes the opportunity to talk about a possible trip to Ohio. Robin listens to him explain what he has in mind and he hums, saying he indeed wouldn’t mind taking care of Chica. He really likes her. Jack sighs when he asks if he knows the date already.

 

“I don’t know… Mark is still thinking about it. But I was looking at the calendar and it’ll have to be in the middle of the week. We could go on Tuesday and come back on Friday.”

 

“Okay. I hope it works… Are you sure about this, Jack?”

 

He visualizes the small package inside his drawer upstairs.

 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I’m sure.”

  
  


***

  
  


Mark opens the door when Jack knocks, greeting him with a smile. Once he’s inside Mark’s apartment, the green-haired man kisses him on the cheek after letting him know. The brunet hugs him and Jack chuckles in his embrace, glad that Mark is feeling okay with touching today.

 

“Okay,” he nuzzles his face on Jack’s neck. “I wanna go home.”

 

The Irishman gasps, moving a little to look at Mark. “Really? Is that a yes? Are we going on a trip?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jack screams in excitement, jumping up and down. Mark chuckles and Jack holds his own cheeks, realizing he has a bunch of shit to do now. He needs to look for plane tickets, see what he’ll take with him and find a place for them.

 

“Oh god, we need to start looking for a hotel.”

 

“Uh, there’s no need for that…” Mark scratches the back of his hair and Jack frowns.

 

When the Irishman asks what he means by that, the brunet begins to explain that when he lost his family, he couldn’t bring himself to sell the house. So it’s still there. He still has the key and a neighbor takes care of the place every now and then. Mark still pays for the electricity and gas every month. Jack listens to Mark say he only brought the basics when he decided to move to LA a year ago. The rest, he bought here with his parents’ inheritance.

 

Jack’s stomach twists inside and he asks if this is a good idea after all, imagining himself walking into Mark’s childhood house. The brunet brushes it off and the green-haired man has to trust him. They walk to the bedroom, resting in bed and looking at ticket prices throughout the day.

 

They find an early flight on Tuesday, June 20th. Mark wants to stay until Saturday, so they can have the rest of the weekend back in LA. Jack agrees and books the plane tickets for both of them, chewing on his bottom lip. Once everything is done, all they need to do is wait.

 

When the day comes, Jack’s anxiety is all over the place. Robin tries to calm him down and helps him finish packing the luggage. The Irishman’s eyes travel to his drawer, knowing the package is still there. After a while, he puts the gift in his hand-luggage and tells Robin they should go now. He’ll take them to the airport, since Mark agreed to get inside the car.

 

The brunet is tense just like him, worry on his face. The airport is thankfully not that crowded, so they can talk well enough and Mark won’t feel suffocated. Jack chuckles when he explains Chica’s needs to Robin for the third time, making sure he’ll get everything right. The Swedish man promises to send daily updates and annoy them, as usual.

 

Jack holds Mark’s hand in the plane.

 

“Four hours, I have to wait four hours,” he mumbles.

 

“And whose idea was that?” Mark replies, but rubs his thumb over Jack’s hand to soothe his anxiety.

 

“God, I hate airplanes.”

 

The brunet puts the arm of the chair up so he can scooch over and pat Jack’s hair. The display of affection in public makes the Irishman’s cheeks redden, but he loves it. They stay like that, distracting themselves and listening to music. It’s Jack’s turn to sigh in relief when the plane arrives safe and sound on the ground. He groans, stretching his legs and popping his ears. Jack’s shaking a small bit, but he’ll be fine. He’s just glad that they arrived.

 

He tells Mark they’ll need to call an Uber and the latter nods slowly, knowing he’ll have to go through this a little more. Jack is thankful that the driver is calm and asks if they are comfortable enough. It makes Mark relax his shoulders on the way to his home. Jack watches the city through the window, never having been to another place in America other than LA.

 

They arrive in a nice neighborhood and they leave the vehicle soon after, taking their luggage out of the trunk. Jack watches Mark tap the floor with his cane and they stop in front of the big house. The Irishman’s heart is racing, tired from the trip and worried about going inside. He waits for Mark to give him the green light and Jack watches him take the key out of his pocket. He touches the doorknob, then the keyhole to open the door correctly. The clicking sound in the quiet afternoon makes them tense their shoulders.

 

The floor creaks beneath their feet, as if it’s surprised to see a form of life again. Jack takes care of their bags, placing them in the hallway entrance and letting Mark take it all in before closing the door. He walks slowly, tapping the place around him. The green-haired man remembers to turn the lights on for himself. The light flickers, but reveals the living room and Jack sees a passage to the backyard immediately.

 

There are portraits all over the room and blankets still over the couch as if someone still lived there. Jack purses his lips, thinking Mark must have left the house the way it was. 

 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

 

“I’m not sure,” Mark replies.

 

Jack doesn’t stop to look around too much right now. He focuses on keeping Mark present, asking him where to go and saying that they should rest. They’ll have plenty of time to talk about the stories that this place carries. Mark opens the door to his old bedroom and the Irishman smiles fondly at the sight. There’s a single bed in the right corner of the room and he can picture a younger Mark playing at his computer desk. A few posters are hanging on the wall, from bands and videogames that are over ten years old now.

 

The closet is empty, so Jack busies himself with organizing their clothes while Mark lies down on his bed. It’s quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. Jack takes the gift out of his hand-luggage and puts it in the last drawer, where Mark won’t find it. He sighs when everything is done and he scans more of the room. He sees a picture of his boyfriend looking at the camera with a huge smile on his face, red-haired and everything. It makes him feel bittersweet.

 

That’s the word for all of this.

 

Bittersweet.

 

Mark is tracing the wall with his fingers when he calls for Jack. The Irishman jumps on the bed, making it squeak. Mark chuckles and Jack moves to lie down on top of the brunet, hugging him. He breathes in the crook of his neck and listens to Mark’s heart beat.

 

“I’m so proud of you,” he can’t help but mumble. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

 

“I can’t believe it either,” Mark whispers. “Thank you for doing this with me.” 

 

Jack puts his elbows up to see Mark and he caresses his cheeks. The tan man blinks, his breathing moving Jack up and down. The green-haired man feels a tug in his heart when Mark wraps his arms around his body. Jack kisses him, adoring the way Mark sighs into his mouth and his body relaxes under him. It’s a chaste and sweet kiss that sends butterflies down Jack’s body. They kiss like that for a while, keeping it light and slow. Mark’s fingers trace his back at one point and Jack grins.

 

When the brunet gets sleepy, Jack tells him to fall asleep. He gets up from the bed and quietly leaves the room for a moment. The green-haired man might be mentally exhausted, but his body refuses to sleep right now. So he wanders through the house, observing every portrait that is exposed and that won’t feel like he’s peering. There’s a picture of Mark as a child next to his father, both of them wearing suits and smiling. It’s Jack’s favourite so far.

 

He figures that Mark must have stayed here after the accident and recovered for around six years before moving to Los Angeles. He opens a few cupboards in the kitchen and finds a couple of tea bags still closed. He checks the expiration date before making one for himself, waiting for the water to boil while looking outside the window. 

 

Jack makes a mental note to go to the grocery store and he opens the sliding glass door, walking out to the wooden porch. The cold air reaches his skin and he drinks some of the hot tea, scanning the backyard. It doesn’t have the same green of the pictures, since no one has been taking care of it. Jack makes another mental note to clean the house once they are settled down.

 

He thinks this will be good for them. It’s like a new fresh chapter where Mark can start all over without a heavy weight on his back. When the first star shows up in the sky, Jack comes back inside and walks to the bedroom. Mark is deep asleep and Jack takes off his shoes. He uses a blanket to cover them since they didn’t make the bed properly and he squishes himself next to Mark.

 

When the morning comes, Jack wakes up to find the bed empty. He pats the cold spot only to grumble in his sleepy state. Jack controls his breathing, not wanting to have a mini-freak out right away, and he gets up to go to the bathroom. After doing his business and washing his face with cold water, he checks his cell phone. Robin messaged him last night.

 

**From Robin, 09:43pm:**

_ CHICA TOOK A SHIT ON THE CARPET!!! _

 

**To Robin, 07:12am:**

_ its her way to say she loves u _

 

**From Robin, 07:14am:**

_ iT’S 4 AM, WHY R U TEXTIN ME _

 

Jack remembers about the time zones and apologies, even though he’s not quite sorry. After making sure things are fine with Robin, he walks downstairs calling for Mark.

 

“Over here.”

 

The sliding glass door is open and Jack turns to see him sitting on the wooden bench of the porch. He’s looking up at the sky and his shoulders are relaxed. Jack tells his heart to calm down, knowing things are alright. He huffs with a smile when he sees that Mark is barefoot. Again. 

 

“Hey,” Jack greets him. “Enjoying the sunlight?”

 

Mark rests his forehead on Jack’s stomach when he gets closer and the Irishman pats his hair, just like the brunet did to him once. He smiles and nods, saying he was listening to the birds and remembering.

 

“Good memories?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jack lets out a sharp laugh when Mark kisses his belly, feeling ticklish. He sits next to his boyfriend, holding his hand and caressing his cheek. Mark leans into the touch and Jack can’t believe this man is part of his life now. He’s gorgeous, in every sense of the word.

 

“Are you ready?” Jack asks in a soft tone.

 

Mark takes a moment to answer, sighing and looking up at the sky again. Jack thinks of the suits they brought that are hanging inside the closet upstairs. He’ll want to buy a bouquet of flowers on the way to the place.

  
“Yes,” Mark looks towards him. “Yes, I’m ready.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go! I've been thinking about it and I've decided it'll be proper to end soon. I hope it's good enough for you guys! I want to show what I can do and not start posting random chapters that won't interfere with the characters development, you feel me? ♥
> 
> anyone have an idea of what is the gift Jack bought? ;u;


	10. Chapter 10

Jack places the bouquet of roses on the grass, so it can rest against the headstone that belongs to Mark’s mother. He holds the brunet’s hand, rubbing small circles on his skin and taking a deep breath. They stand in front of the graves in silence, both wearing black suits, and Jack touches his own tie to fix it. The brunet tugs on Jack’s hand, saying he’ll sit down and the Irishman does the same soon after.

 

Mark touches the headstones slowly, a soft smile shows on his face when he feels their engraved names. They take their time and Jack describes everything that Mark asks. He talks about how the sun is high in the sky and that the leaves from the trees are dancing in the wind. The birds are singing. There are no clouds and the cemetery is empty.

 

Jack listens to the tan man talk about another childhood story and he chuckles, imagining Mark as a little kid in the forest with his older brother. There’s serenity hovering over them and Mark seems to be glad that they came here. Jack rests his head against Mark’s shoulder and after a few more stories, he can’t help but feel tears fall from his eyes. He tries to hide it, but Mark bumps him to call his attention.

 

“Sorry,” Jack sniffs.

 

Mark sends him a fond smile and Jack hugs him. The brunet asks if he can have some time alone and Jack nods, kissing him on the cheek before getting up and walking away. He turns around to see his boyfriend looking towards the headstones and speaking something that Jack can’t quite hear. The green-haired man puts his hands in his pockets and walks to a tree, resting his back against it and closing his eyes. He stays like that until Mark calls for him, saying he’s done talking to his family.

 

Jack asks him how he feels, if everything is alright. Mark doesn’t answer right away, thinking of what to say. Jack waits.

 

“Honestly…? I feel okay. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that,” he nods to himself. “I feel calm.”

 

Jack smiles and they walk back home.

 

 

***

 

 

The green-haired man takes the small box from the drawer and he stares at it for a long time. He takes a deep breath, feeling his heart race faster than before. He looks at their suits, folded neatly, realizing he never thought he’d be in Cincinnati with his boyfriend in order to visit a cemetery. It really does show how much he likes the man and that he’s willing to do anything to make things better. With these thoughts in mind, he leaves the bedroom to find Mark standing on the porch again.

 

He messes with his hair a couple of times before extending his arm with the package. Jack forgets to call him first so Mark would know that he has something in his hands. He flushes and shakes his head, remembering the first time they met.

 

“Mark,” he says, shifting on his feet. “H-Here. It’s for you.”

 

“What?” The brunet raises his eyebrows, but he takes the present in his hands. “Did you get me a gift? Really?”

 

Jack mumbles an incoherent answer, feeling anxious and watching Mark touch the package. He opens the black box and feels the wrapping inside, taking the small object from the tiny cotton bag and finally holding it in his hands. Jack sucks on his bottom lip, clenching and unclenching his hands. He doesn’t say anything. The Irishman observes the man touch the long brass  [ necklace ](https://www.etsy.com/pt/listing/97802730/braille-i-love-you-stamped-long-brass?ref=listing-shop-header-0) and his hazel eyes widen when he feels the Braille writing.

 

The silence doesn’t help Jack to feel better, so he shifts again on his feet out of anxiety.

 

“It’s… I… I thought it’d be nice to… I don’t know… I wanted to give you something…” Jack trails off, stumbling in his words and scratching the back of his neck.

 

“Jack...” the brunet breathes, wrapping the pendant around his fingers. “Do you really mean what it says here?”

 

“Y-Yeah? It says  _ I love you _ , right? Please, tell me I didn’t get it wrong. That would be terrible…”

 

“It does says that.”

 

“O-Oh, good. Do... Do you like it?” he asks when Mark slowly puts the string around his neck, still fidgeting with the pendant over his chest.

 

“Yes… I do.”

 

“T-That’s great.”

 

“Jack?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I love you,” Mark grins and holds Jack’s face. “I love you so much.”

 

The green-haired man lets out a breathless laugh, touching Mark’s hair without thinking. His heart flutters when Mark looks at him.  _ Really  _ looks at him. Jack feels butterflies in his stomach and he tells Mark not to move. His legs are wobbly and he forgets how to breathe for a moment, but he feels so damn good. The corner of his eyes burn with tears of happiness and he grins, caressing Mark’s cheek.

 

“Mark… You just looked at me,” he whispers.

 

“Did I?” Mark’s doe eyes shine and the green-haired man knows he’s trying to focus again. It’s adorable.

 

“Yes. Yes!” Jack chuckles. “God, I love you...”

 

The Irishman closes the gap between them, kissing Mark like their first time. They smile into the kiss and Mark tilts his head to have more of him, hugging Jack by the waist. Jack sighs, opening his mouth to taste his lover and Mark sucks on his bottom lip. The brunet’s hands go under his shirt and Jack shudders, loving the sensation and enjoying their lazy kiss on the porch.

 

In the night, the green-haired man lies down in bed with his lover and they take off their clothes. It’s the first time Jack undresses completely for Mark, so he flushes deeply even though the latter won’t see. Jack lets Mark’s hands travel all over him, moaning softly while the brunet explores his body. The green-haired man traces Mark’s moles like they are a personal constellation. He gasps when the tan man leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to his navel.

 

Jack’s mouth falls open when Mark takes him into his mouth and starts bobbing up and down. The muscles of his thighs tense up at first, but he takes deep breaths to calm down. Mark keeps one hand over Jack’s face to see his expression and it’s utterly endearing. The Irishman whimpers when Mark prepares him and he can’t help but wrap his hand around the brunet’s so he can go deeper. 

 

They let out a breathless moan when Mark slides inside Jack and they move together after a moment. The green-haired man sinks his nails into Mark’s back, loving how the necklace swings back and forth with their movements. The brunet groans, whispering words of love and burying his face in the crook of Jack’s neck. The warmth below his stomach twists and grows with every thrust. The Irishman’s mouth opens for a silent scream when he comes, throwing his head back and shuddering against the bed.

 

He sobs and holds onto Mark’s shoulders when the latter keeps thrusting into him until he comes. Jack sighs and the brunet is breathing heavily, trying to keep himself steady and not crush Jack with his weight. The Irishman chuckles and brings him closer, caressing the tan man’s hair and feeling his afterglow. Mark moves a bit so he can rest his forehead against Jack’s. His lover laughs, and he feels safe and sound.

 

He couldn’t wish for anything else.

 

 

***

 

 

**To Robin, 06:13pm:**

_ so... _

 

**From Robin, 06:13pm:**

_ did u use condoms? _

 

**To Robin, 06:14pm:**

_ I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING YET _

 

**From Robin, 06:14pm:**

_ but u were going to _

 

**To Robin, 06:15pm:**

_ fine. yes. yes i did, robin. are you happy that you know about my sexual life now? _

 

**From Robin, 06:15pm:**

_ actually yes, my buddy deserves happiness after all :) _

 

**To Robin, 06:18pm:**

_ mark’s askin about chica, how is she? _

 

**From Robin, 06:19pm:**

_ she is doin fine! prob misses him tho! but she keeps shitting on my floor ;u; _

 

**To Robin, 06:20pm:**

_ good _

 

 

***

 

 

They spend the rest of their trip going to places that Mark used to go. They have chicken and dumplings one time, because the brunet said he  _ has _ to eat them at least once if they are going to be boyfriends. Jack laughs and enjoys the quiet times in the house, listening to Mark’s breathing and having him all to himself. He also starts taking a few pictures of them, but it mostly consists of a shirtless Mark cooking in the kitchen.

 

When Mark first finds out about the pictures that Jack has been taking, he feels self-conscious and tries to convince Jack that it’s not worth his time. He fails to stop the green-haired man, so he rolls his eyes with a smile. Jack thinks that the important thing is that they are capturing their new memories. 

 

It feels like a fever dream and he doesn’t want it to end. He tells Mark on their last night in Ohio and the latter says it’s a silly thought, because it won’t actually end at all. They are together now. Things will only get better. The fact that Mark said this with his own mouth makes Jack smile like an idiot, until his cheeks hurt. He’s just so proud of how far they have come.

 

Jack persuades Mark to take something from the house so they can bring it to his apartment. A couple of hours later, when Jack is almost done packing his luggage, Mark nudges his arm. He’s holding a Braille Rubik’s cube that he used to play with when he was stressed. Jack grins and tells him to keep it.

 

He remembers the portraits in the living room and he asks if they should bring some of them. Mark purses his lips, but slowly nods. Jack guides him to a shelf and picks up his favorite picture of Mark with his dad. The Irishman describes it and Mark beams with half-moon eyes, saying he remembers that one. Jack takes it.

 

The way back to Los Angeles is smoother and Jack doesn’t freak out that much about the airplane this time. He still doesn’t like the pressure of it and he has to pop his ears every now and then. Mark keeps touching the necklace with a silly smile on his face. 

 

Robin is waiting for them once they land and Jack hugs him, happy to see his friend again. Mark also wraps Robin in his arms and the Swedish man has a shade of red on his cheeks by the end of it. Mark takes deep breaths when they get inside the car and Jack can tell the brunet is tired from the trip. Jack helps Mark to unpack his luggage when Robin leaves briefly to pick up Chica. 

 

Jack turns around when he hears her bark and she excitedly runs towards them once Robin comes back. She cries from happiness, running in circles and Mark hugs her a lot. Jack laughs and accepts her love. After a while, Mark says he’d like to sleep to get his energy back and Jack kisses him before leaving with Robin.

 

The Swedish man talks to him about what happened during the past few days and Jack hums throughout the conversation. He’s happy to hear his friend’s voice, despite being tired. Going back to their dorm, he crashes in his bed and lets sleep overtake him.

 

 

***

 

 

“Happy birthday!” Jack shouts and throws his hands in the air.

 

“Happy birthday!” Robin and his girlfriend exclaim in unison and Mark giggles.

 

It’s June 28th. 

 

There’s a chocolate cake on the coffee table that has Mark’s name in Braille and with a candle that reads thirty-two. Robin makes noises with a party blower and his girlfriend pops confetti up in the air. They are wearing party hats and Chica howls along with the noise that they are making. Mark blushes at the reception from their new friends and Jack tells him to cut the delicious cake that they made. Robin makes sure to say that he should make a wish.

 

“But I already have everything I could wish for,” Mark murmurs and everyone makes an  _ Aw _ sound.

 

He gives the first piece of chocolate cake to Jack. Robin huffs in indignation and the Irishman sticks his tongue out at his friend in a playful manner. They spend a lovely night in Mark’s house. Jack plays a few video games with Robin and they all discuss old movies, as always. There are also a couple of board games that are appropriate for Mark to play. Everything is utterly domestic and cozy. Jack loves it.

 

Jack stays to clean the mess they made once Robin is gone with his girlfriend. It’s nearly two in the morning and he can feel his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. Mark is in the bedroom making the bed so they can sleep. Honestly, at this point, Jack practically lives here and this thought doesn’t bother him at all. After cleaning the dishes, he walks towards the coffee table and holds a rectangular object. His hand touches their initials in Braille and then, he places it on the new shelf near the glass wall.

 

He stares at his birthday gift to Mark for a long time until he hears the brunet calling for him, saying he’s ready to sleep. The Irishman feels their branches growing bigger and stronger around their hearts.

 

“Coming!” Jack leaves the living room with a smile on his face.

 

On the shelf, there is a new portrait. A picture of them on that porch back in Cincinnati. Jack is kissing his lover’s cheek and Mark is grinning with his head ducked. Their eyes are closed and Mark’s raised shoulders indicate that he was laughing when the picture was taken. The necklace can be seen resting perfectly over Mark’s heart and there are stars in the sky.

 

It’s beautiful.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Thank you so much for taking your time to read this! I had fun creating this little story and I'm glad to know that you guys enjoyed too! Can't wait to write more stories! Anything, hmu! Sending hugs! ♥
> 
> [Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6XgzmiBk09HayGSjPFozyJB6IDYm46yK)   
>  [Storyboard](https://pinterest.com/sparklepines/branches-and-constellations/)   
> 


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